A Nanny Diary of my OWN

FYI: I originally wrote this...rant...in August, 2007, on myspace (Good Lord, who uses that anymore??) when the film version of "The Nanny Diaries" was released. This subject has come up in conversation quite a bit lately, with regard to the nanny depicted in the remake of the film "Arthur", and I promised some nanny friends I would find it and post it for them to see. So, apologies for the flashback, but it still holds true.

Okay, well maybe I don't really have a Nanny Diary, but I do have a rant or two about the movie.

Now, let me first admit that when I first read the book, oh so many years ago, I was somewhat unimpressed. This was largely because I don't work for families like the X family. I usually work for NORMAL people who want me to work WITH them, not be the parent so they don't have to be.

Since I've read the book, I have had the "good fortune" to encounter...even work for...parents rather similar to those depicted in the book. I mean, all employer families have their quirks and things to complain about. I know I've certainly found plenty to complain about. There was the family who "forgot" to pay me every week so I'd have to keep asking for my check, then the next week they'd be irritated that they had to pay me again. There are the families who are never, ever home on time and seem to think that it is no big deal to assume that I'm always available to work late because why on earth would a nanny have anything else to do? There are the families who promise me two weeks paid vacation a year and then are horrified when I actually take a few days...and then demand that *I* be the one to find their backup childcare even though they assured me at my interview that they had other options for my days off. There was the family that not only expected me to work major holidays, but to travel out of state with them for those holidays and ignore my own personal traditions. There was the family where I would come in some mornings and find liquor bottles still open on the counters in a trashed kitchen and everyone still in bed long past time to get up and ready to get out the door. There was the family where I had to handwash the mom's...personal...clothing items. There have been many families where I was given a list of rules to enforce...and then found that mom and dad didn't enforce them themselves. (And really, if you are going to insist that I only allow your children to eat organic, healthy food it really does make it difficult for me...and them...to follow that when you take them to McDonalds every time the meal prep is your responsibility. Likewise if you tell me your toddler isn't supposed to have his paci except at bedtime but you pop it in his mouth the moment you walk in the door.) There was the family that didn't tell me until the last moment (as they were walking out the door, luggage in hand) that mom and dad were going out of town for a few days and I was expected to stay with the kids that whole time. Then, of course, there was the dad who showed me his bag of sex toys and offered to share them with me.

Oh, I could go on!

But all those families had their good points, too. Like the family that offered me some free days off when I called off my wedding. Or the mom who spent hours researching digital cameras so she could surprise me for my birthday with one that had the exact features I wanted. Or the family that took me to Bali for two weeks...paid my whole way, gave me spa treatments, paid me to go...and then hardly asked me to work when we were there and spent a good part of the time buying me drinks at the pool bar. Or the mom who raced home early, without warning, on three different occasions within 4 months so I could attend the births (as the doula) of two of my nephews and the daughter of a friend. Or the many families who have invited me to spend holidays with them in their homes because I'm "family" and because they know I don't generally spend many holidays with my own family. Or the family that asked me if they could name me their children's guardian in the will.

But can I just rant for a minute about this freaking movie?

I understand that movies and their literary counterparts are bound to differ. The book is always better. But why change key ingredients of the story, particularly when some of those key ingredients are EXACTLY the POINT of the STORY?

Part of the appeal, at least among the nanny community, of The Nanny Diaries is/was that the nanny in question was a REAL NANNY. Now, granted, she was a grad student working as a nanny to help get through school, and the inherent implication was that when she graduated with her Master's that she'd move on to something different. But that's pretty accurate for a large percentage of the professional nanny population, so that's okay. At least she knew the score. She knew kids, she knew nannying, and she knew parents. Even for those of us who never worked for a family like the X family, we got the nanny thing in the book because at some point we all recognized ourselves.

But the movie? They CHANGED THAT. In the movie, she's a recent college grad with a business degree who strikes out in her first real world job interview. She stumbles into the nanny job opportunity, which she doesn't really want, and decides to take it while she figures out who she is.

She's clueless as to nannying and childcare. She learns, of course, that's the adventure of the film.

But COME ON. Couldn't we please JUST ONCE get a film about a nanny that actually depicts a REAL NANNY? Movies that center around nannies tend to have limited themes. We have movies like "Uptown Girls" and, now, "Nanny Diaries" that depict modern gals with no other option and no skills whatsoever who stumble into jobs taking care of extraordinarily wealthy children with parents who'd rather not be bothered with their offspring. These hapless girls fall in love with their charges (which, in the Nanny Diaries, is claimed to be the number one wrong thing to do!) and learn their jobs on the fly. The basic point in such films is this: Taking care of a child is so easy that any unskilled, untrained idiot can do it well, and probably better than a parent. Then we have the movies like "Mary Poppins" and "Nanny McPhee". Now, I'll admit, I LOVE these movies because they are fun and fanciful. But they kind of set the bar impossibly high. I mean, both those practically perfect nannies have magic skills. Like, real magic, with which they enchant, charm, and discipline their children. Do you have any idea how much easier my daily work would be if I could snap my fingers and thus make all the toys put themselves away??? I've tried and I still can't master that one. Plus, both those nannies stay for such a brief while and then, once things are they way they want them, they leave. The reality is that most nannies aren't going to leave unless the job SUCKS. Not when the job is finally all settled in perfectly! Then there are the charming tales a la "Sound of Music" wherein yet another inexperienced caregiver arrives to make all things well...and to fall in love with the single father. In some films, he's not even single. And, finally, my favorite (note the sarcasm), films like "The Hand that Rocks the Cradle" wherein the nanny isn't really a nanny, but some psychopath bent on causing grave harm to the parents, the children, or both.

I'm a real nanny. I deliberately and consciously chose this as my career. It's not something I fell into because I lacked any other skills, qualifications, or opportunities. It's not a stop-gap until I can find a "real job." It's no longer the way I'm paying my way through college, because I finished with college more than 11 years ago. It's not a stepping stone for experience so I can go on to "something better." I'm not magical. I can't slide up bannisters, have tea parties in midair, tap my cane and confine children to their beds, or fly sedately with my umbrella in hand. I was never a nun and I can't play the guitar. I have one, I just can't play it. I am not interested in trying to seduce any of the dads I've worked for because I find unavailability in a man HIGHLY unattractive. And, despite what some may want to think, I'm not a psychopath.

I'm a real nanny. I have almost always worked a schedule of 50+ hours a week. I change diapers and I potty train. I read stories, teach ABC's, and teach them to read on their own. I kiss owies, and apply bandaids even just as a fashion statement for a 3 year old who thinks that bandaids are cool. I can't do magic, but I can pretend we live in a magical palace and create an imaginary world in which to play for a rainy afternoon. I hear secret wishes, dreams, and fears. I turn cranky mornings into crazy dance parties full of laughter and groovy moves. I teach parents how to really baby and toddler proof their homes, and how to properly install and use their carseats. I cajole stubborn eaters into trying new foods, and I plan and prepare a nutritious well balanced diet that takes into account allergies, preferences, and mercurial toddler moods. I sing childhood favorites 50 times in a row and convincingly pretend that I am thrilled to sing it again. I organize toy rooms and convince preschoolers that cleaning up and maintaining that order is really fun. I get babies on a napping routine that helps them sleep through the night. I read parenting books and magazines by the truckload. I know how to treat/handle/identify colds, the flu, rotavirus, strep throat, pink eye, diaper rash, blocked tearducts, cradle cap, diarrhea, constipation, colic, reflux, ear infections, Fifths disease, Hand/Foot/Mouth, speech and/or language delays, developmental delays, mono, substance abuse, and teen pregnancy. I reassure parents that their infant/toddler/preschooler/grade schooler/teenager is not abnormal and that this, too, shall pass. I can tell them whether or not their baby/child is within normal developmental ranges and whether or not they need to seek a professional opinion or intervention. And, if those interventions are needed, I can...and have...helped implement those at home. I know where all the indoor play areas are...free and not free...within a 15 mile radius of where I'm working. I even know of some that are farther away. I know where all the shady playgrounds are, too, so that little legs don't get burned on sun-heated slides. I know where the best places are for swimming lessons, gymnastics, and dance classes. I know who to call to sign your kid up for soccer or baseball or swimteam or basketball or hockey. I hug, tickle, snuggle, comfort, and play. I am privy to far more private and intimate information than most people know about their bosses/employers because I work in my employers home. I know what her bad housekeeping secret is (and admit it, we all have at least one!) and I know exactly what both of them think of each others parents. And of each other, for better or worse. I hold someone else's children close in my heart and I decide that I'm willing to lay down my life for these sweet, precious little souls. I may or may not be appreciated for any of this by the parents, and frustrating as that is I also know that there is nothing that shows appreciation more than a child who trusts me to make everything alright, to make everything safe, to make their world a place full of love and fun. The baby who melts into me as she falls asleep, the baby who offers big wet slobbery grinning kisses, the little one who won't let me leave without a high five or a hug, the peanut butter kisses and jelly fingered hugs, the letter from a child that says "I wish you were my sister"...these are the usual signs of appreciation I get and I wouldn't trade those for anything. There's something very humbling when a parent entrusts their child to my care, day after day, and it is a responsibility I will never take lightly.

I'm a real nanny. I'm a member of both the Association of Professional Nannies and the National Association for Nanny Care. Someday, maybe I'll join the International Nanny Association. Yes, we have professional organizations! We even have professional training schools, professional conferences, and professional ongoing education. There's even a National Nanny Recognition Week, but Hallmark has yet to acknowledge that one.

I'm a real nanny. By choice. By profession. I don't need a "real job". I HAVE a Real Job.

Where's the movie that depicts that?