How It Feels To Be A Nanny

How It Feels To Be a Nanny (For One of the Best Families in Town)

By Katelin Hill

Their mother is going to kill me, I thought as I scrubbed the black crayon off of the floor in vain, only smearing it further. My first day nannying for three toddlers had been spent thus far getting to know the kids, and the second their mother left me alone to go upstairs to relax, BAM—a Picasso, on a canvas of hardwood floor, with a medium of Crayola crayon. That's when I smelled it. Another child had left a little creation of their own in their diaper. I dropped what I was doing to tend to that.

I was holding toddler number two's feet with one hand and a clean diaper in the other when I realized that toddler number three had found the crayon I had neglected to hide, and was decorating the woven clothes hamper. I had to watch the mural unfold as I finished what I was doing, deciding I would rather have crayon on the walls than what toddler number two had to offer.

Since that day, I learned a lot of important lessons. Mr. Clean Magic Erasers, for example, should always be kept on hand as they are pure concentrated genius encapsulated in a single several-use sponge. I also learned that a good employer will not kill you over a mini-fiasco such as the one on my first day, and a great employer, such as the one I had, will giggle and tell you that was actually a very mild day in their household, and if that was all that had happened on my first day I should consider myself lucky.

Two years later, I still have yet to beat the feeling I get when I walk through their door and am welcomed by 3 pairs of feet, several sizes bigger than that fateful day, come scrambling to the door for hugs and screaming my name. During the last two years I don't think I have ever been able to get the theme song to Peep and the Big Wide World out of my head (and clapped my hands four times in the appropriate places). I've replaced choice grown-up words by exclaiming “oh fudge!” when a toddler runs right over my fingers while wearing their heaviest sneakers. I've been hugged by dripping wet children fresh out of the kiddy pool with no change of clothes on hand and put Band-Aids on bruises because sometimes it's just not worth it to argue with a three year old if a Nemo Band-Aid is all it will take for him to feel better. Although on the one hand the kids have been highly predictable little beings there was never a shortage of surprises. For example, when I ask one of my babies what he wants for dinner, the answer will never not be “grilled cheese.” Yet when I caught another kid I've recently started watching wiping boogers all over construction paper in place of paint, I can't say I was expecting that.

I have a lot of respect for parents. On several occasions I've arrived home after particularly long days and instead of relaxing kept thinking, “oh crud, where did the kids go?” I think this is how most parents probably feel daily. When I put my toddlers on bikes when they were just starting to learn to ride them I thought my heart was going to pound right through my chest. And the first time we took them to Kidsburg? I think my blood pressure steadily rose the whole hour we were there. That is one terrifying place. Ladders are dangerous, ropes are an accident waiting to happen, and if a bigger kid even looks at one of my babies the wrong way then it's time to mosey on over to a quieter area. Many people have told me I'm going to be the mother one day who keeps her kids enclosed in a protective bubble. There's an idea.

Nannying has been a great experience, and one of the most important things is to find the right family. This family and I were a perfect fit. One of the greatest compliments I've ever received was from the toddlers' mom. She walked into the house a few months after I had started working for her and told me she had forgotten her cell phone, but she told me “when I realized you couldn't call me, I thought, it's okay, because if anything happens Katelin can handle it.” She said that she hadn't trusted anyone like that with the kids, other than her own mother. I have to say though; I do probably raid the refrigerator a lot more than her mother.

It seems like forever ago I was making sure peas didn't get shoved up nostrils and that diapers stayed on their bottoms instead of wherever they felt like ripping them off to leave somewhere for me to step on. They have grown out of their diapers and cribs and gone through about 30 pairs of shoes each, each of which fit them for about a week before another growth spurt hit. They ride the school bus. My babies aren't really babies (and I guess technically they're not “mine”) but big kids now, and I look forward to watching them grow up as long as I have the privilege too.