Having Kids and taking care of them

I think as a nanny I have had to face a lot of "stuff" that I hadn't had too much reason to consider otherwise. I've had tons of mothers I've met at the park acknowledge my job is really hard, these are professional women who have either taken leave to look after their kids before they attend school, or they don't work on Wed, where here in France many mothers get off because the kids don't go to school on Wed.

The first thing I realized was don't become a nanny if you're educated. I have met some professional nannies who want to be nannies, but even though I have an education in education I find the lack of intellectual stimulation, and the daily battle of trying to get two children to eat their food a personal affront. Today I asked S what she eats on the weekend, because I had the sneaking suspicion that it was pizza and chicken nuggets- but her answer- my parents give me whatever I ask for, they never make me eat vegetables- infuriated me. I already assumed she ate crap, but the fact that I am expected to anguish and labor over getting these two kids to ingest vegetables, it's too much. But I take my job seriously, when most the time I can't figure out why- the parents don't back me up with any kind of support- if I say S doesnt get a yoghurt or "treat" unless she eats her vegetables, it is simply ignored on the weekends, and if mom gets home and she asks for one, she gets one. Why do I honestly care if they eat vegetables, I'm not getting a bonus, and their parents aren't losing any sleep over it, but I pull my hair out not just getting them to eat vegetables, but half the time getting them to eat at all. A meal with these two is simply a nightmare.

Second, I realized that if I ever had kids, I want them to be cared for by family. I'm sure there are a lot of amazing nanny's out there, but I doubt most of them are half as invested as I'd want my kids' to be. My aunt babysat me when I was growing up, and she basically ignored us and spent the whole day on the phone or watching televangelists on tv. There was a ton of room for improvement, my aunt was a religious fanatic that made me speak in tongues and pray for our safety when we got in the car, she is a total nut, but my aunt loved me. I take care of these kids for money. The kids often tell me they love me, sometimes I tell them I love them back, but the truth is, I'm their nanny because I get paid to be. I know my mom paid my aunt too, but I was just like her own kid, my mom wasn't paying her to treat me like a princess and dote all her attention on me, I spent hours upon tiring hours languishing in the JcPenny outlet store because my aunt loved to shop and plenty of hours at her nutty church a two hour drive away from home, if we weren't outside or upstairs playing on our own, we were stuck following her around for hours while she shopped at Kmart. I don't exactly advocate for the JcPenny's outlet afternoon, but I believe in having my kid learn from grown ups and if that means going grocery shopping with them, playing on their own while the housework is done or playing with the neighbor kid while a few moms played cards or had coffee, then so be it. The whole idea of a nanny totally freaks me out- I am literally paid to give 9 hours of attention to two kids- 9 hours of personal attention is not what anyone needs.

Finally, I'm getting burnt out on other people's kids, and I resent it. I get paid to spend most of the day with someone else's kids, as an educator I am very well versed in child development, and yet, I get no say, no vote, no opinion (why should I?) but it boils my blood more than anything when the parents make decisions that I find detrimental to the kids, because it's easier for them. I get that they're not my kids, but as an educator you work for a school whose education philosophy mirrors your own, so to work for a family whose values differ from your own, is doing my head in. I have a lot of sway with these kids and I've seen their behavior change for the better, at the beginning there were daily tantrums, I haven't seen a tantrum in months, but every time their parents allow for or disrupt their routine or schedule- I pay for it because the kids fall apart. I may have reigned the kids in some, but believe me, my influence is no where near what their parents have. This isn't like a regular job, no matter what my insight, parent's are considered the experts on their kids- but as a teacher and as a nanny, you'd be shocked at the stuff kids reveal to you, little nuggets that say everything. Parents would do well to ask for some insight from the primary childcare provider and work with them as a team because we see and hear everything from a neutral perspective and like any job we take our role as seriously as our employer does. We aren't parents with all the insecurities that come with that role, we are learning all the time too, but our insight could take years off of the therapy your child may someday seek. I should know, I had the babysitter from a religious nuthouse who mostly ignored our basic needs (attention, hunger, toilet breaks, fatigue), but my issues aren't with my aunt, they're with my parents.

P.S. I am not currently (nor have I ever) sought therapy, as far as I know there is no treatment for having Republican parents...

Food Inc

For the first time since I started my year as a nanny, while the kids were at school, I turned on the TV. Since then I've had two hours every Tuesday and Thursday which besides a few household chores, I've used to read. Today though, I turned on the tube and tuned into Oprah. I watch her interview Jay Leno whom did not garner any sympathy from me, and then a show about food. Since leaving the states I have given up being a pescatarian for the most part. It was too hard in Chile, where meat isn't so much a staple as there just isn't that much to work with- for variety and because Sylvain's diet was so heavily rooted in meat, it didn't take long for me to cave. In Paris- I believe the culinary goldmine here is just too rich to waste, bring on the pate.

Still a french/Smithie friend of mine and I were riding the metro back from the Shakespeare event and she mentioned that she too was thinking about returning to Chicago- except for the food issue. I was already aware of Abigail's involvement with a farm co-op where she got weekly deliveries of seasonal fruit and veg and how important this food lifestyle was for her. Moreover I had gotten used to paying more for my food here, but something weird happened here, I lost weight. I don't eat less, and my only exercise is our fifth floor walk-up and Saturday swimming- far different from the regular exercise I got in the states. I could be wrong, but I believe that even though I'm eating my way through France, the lack of hormones and antibiotics in the meat here has made a huge difference in my health.

French supermarkets don't often shelve produce, it's there of course, but no one buys it, they get their produce from the weekly farmers markets, and their meat often comes from the butcher. Here you can choose from a much wider variety of meat cuts, but you also have options that Americans just don't have- for one, anti-biotics and hormones are illegal. To some extent factory farming must exist but you can easily buy bio- the French word for organic.

What Abigail said didn't mean much on the train, but as soon as I started watching Oprah, it clicked- I can't buy meat that is hormone and antibiotic free with the same ease and assurance I can here, moreover, lets face it, American's supermarkets stock off season everything, they don't in France. So when you see melon, or berries, you know they are going to be delicious. I am a food lover, but I am not a gardener (yet!) I have no idea when certain things become seasonal except root vegetables (thanks to Thanksgiving) and having grown up in Wisconsin, I know when corn is ready.

This is a pretty big deal for me, I don't eat food with preservatives and I don't have any problem with beefing up my food allowance to make sure I'm getting clean and natural food, without hormones, without antibiotics, without anything messing with it, no thanks, I like my food normal size (you don't realize how obese our produce is until you live in a country where it isn't) and without genetic modification. So as much as the next step of the journey seems to include the US of A, I wonder whether my brief dalliance in meat eating is about to be a memory. I've lived on the coast for so long, I can hardly remember what a drag it is not to have 'fresh" things, fish and fruit de mers will be the hardest to endure, but I know midwest eating lacks the diversity offered elsewhere. Hopefully though, an oven is in the future...

When Paris isn't a Dream

I had a great talk with a Smithie friend tonight who at least for now is feeling like Paris isn't a dream for her. She's half French but until moving to Paris was living in Chicago (although she grew up in Paris). While washing the wine glass from tonights Smith shakespeare night the dryer asked how I was liking Paris, my answer was ummmmm, and then everyone knew, there are no fireworks. It's been like a mediocre date, not bad, it's still a date, a night out, the food was good, but no sparks. And while everyone laughed because the "umm" was so telling, I shared that I had wondered to Sylvain if our experience would be different if our living environment in a tiny studio apartment/cave in the middle of nowhere in the 18eme had been different. My friend who lives in the 18eme as well, was thinking the same thing. She's ready to move back to the states, probably Chicago for a while, but Chicago is not where she wants to put down roots, and so, who knows...

I told her that before I left New York for Chile I had spent about a year feeling like, I didn't need New York the way that a lot of New Yorkers live off the status of being a New Yorker, the respect you get from the rest of the world or country who see New York as inanely special, thus as a resident, you also must be special too. New York is amazing, but living there doesn't make you any more special than someone who lives elsewhere. Some people don't even notice New York is a hassle to live in, but others stay a few years longer than necessary because they let New York mean more than it is, they can't let go of their identity as a New York resident.

Lately I've had a couple friends who can't wrap their heads around the fact Paris isn't my dream. Paris is an idea for most of the world, an idea that is largely a fantasy, but anyone who lived in our dinky apartment in nowhereville 18eme and went from the job of their dreams to watching other peoples kids... Well, that isn't anyone's dream, no matter where you live and no matter how good the cheese selection is. There are a few Smithies I know here whose visas are about to run out and are scrambling to find work because they want to stay. But I imagine that to an extent they are identifying with the identity that Paris gives them, because Paris is special. They haven't started careers, just moved to Paris to teach English and are probably holding onto some hope that they might meet a Frenchman and live that dream. (Note to anyone holding on to that dream, French people don't marry, and when they do, they definitely don't marry at age 23, so you still won't have any papers to be in the country).

Hiring Season

Whenever one looks back on the adventures of life, the struggles and trying elements seem to sift out of the memory box and whats left is all the good times. This is convenient in a lot of ways. Already I look back on Valparaiso and what I remember most isn't the boredom of not working, or the kitchen that was always trashed, or the anxiety that I faced in choosing between following Sylvain wherever he was headed next, or going back to New York.

Now we are nearing a crossroads in our Paris leg of the traveling and I'm starting to prepare to return to my life as a teacher. We have decided that I will apply to jobs and if I get one, we'll follow the job. We are limited largely to New York and California, both states I am certified in, but we are most interested in moving (for me) back to Chicago.

I am about 100% sure I will not find work for September, not only is the economy crummy for educators it's a joke for art educators, but even more than that, I'd have a hard time myself hiring someone who wanted to work in Chicago, while they were living in Paris. As savvy as Skype is, I'd have my own reservations about hiring someone to teach young people who I couldn't personally interview. If I weren't in the position I currently find myself in, I'd have a hard time accepting a job at a school I hadn't visited, to teach in a room I haven't seen, and to miss out on the opportunity to talk to people that work there now, to try to glean exactly who I'm working for which would help me assess whether or not I share their teaching philosophy and whether or not they are a good leader.

I'm pretty big on the good leader point. I taught under trying conditions in the Bronx, but I had two amazing women who inspired my teaching and commitment and they listened to me, really listened when I complained about the difficulties I faced in teaching effectively without a sink or classroom, we both knew those circumstances weren't changing anytime soon, but whenever I left our meetings I knew they appreciated I showed up to work everyday and did really good work. I liked the fact that they knew our building was a mess, that it was a space that didn't lend itself to teaching, much less learning in many ways, but they never gave up or gave in or even complained for that matter.

I don't know where my next classroom will be, but I'm excited about my return even if it doesn't happen this fall. This past year I had no idea when I would return to teaching, it felt like a question mark I could not pin down, but lately it feels like things are focusing some, the plan, the timeline, the weirdness of giving up my life and becoming a nanny in Paris is starting to fade some as I gear up for the big return.