About Me

I'm a 27 year old Canadian living abroad. A brunette with blonde moments. Always learning, always changing.

Wednesday 25 April 2012

Year 28, Day 22: Body Fluids

Now, I realize I am an amateur. I do not claim to be a mother, nor do I actually know anything about it. But something about this whole childcare thing has come to my attention....

People. Childcare is all about the body fluids.

You have to catch it, clean it, stop it, or dry it... and its constantly coming out of their eyes, mouths, nostrils, bums or other unmentionable body parts. Its exhausting, and disgusting, all at the same time. Maybe I'm just feeling that way today because I unwittingly knelt in a puddle of urine. Urine that did not belong to either one of my charges. Or it could also be because after 3 days of nannying, I finally encountered my first poopy diaper. How the faaaack does that much crap come out of one child? Twice.

The 3 year old talked me through changing the 18 month old's poopy diaper. She understood when I needed encouragement to go on, she didn't judge me when I involuntarily began to gag, and she gave me peace afterwards when I needed a moment to recover.

I know I bitch, but at the risk of sounding sappy - they are adorable kids and they are quickly attaching themselves to my cold childless heart. At least the amount of body fluid I deal with daily is equal to the amount of love they dish out. Stealthy little monsters. Creeping up on me and making me adore them.

Other fun highlights include:

- Four children simultaneously spitting saliva all over the furniture. One kid thinks its funny, so the rest do it, and pretty soon things have escalated.

- A conversation between my 3 year old charge and her friend while playing on their "magic" carpet: Child 1- "Lets ride this thing home!" Me - "Where's home?" Child 2: "Disneyland!" Child 1: " We can't go there! Its a school night!"

- After painting with her hands, the 3 year old ran to the bathroom to wash up, leaving a rainbow trail of paint on the light switches and faucets.

- These kids go into freaking hell-raising melt-down mode when they're hungry. Just as I've cracked 3 eggs to scramble, the power goes out, the children go hungry, and I improvise with a little song and dance number.

- After 3 days of changing diapers, I was informed that I had been putting them on backwards.

Stay tuned!!

Monday 23 April 2012

Year 28, Day 20: The Nanny

Courtney the Nanny: Day One.

Its a battlefield out there.

Dirty-assed diapers, kids that won't share, learning how to make bottles, picky eaters, a 3 year old who won't eat her meat or veggies, a 4 kid-strong playdate gone awry, and an 18 month old bawling his snot into my hair.

To the mothers (and fathers) of the world, I salute you.

I should have known things were going to be interesting when on the trial shift, the 3 year old accidentally peed herself. And then played in it with a cookie cutter. No joke. After we cleaned her up and changed her clothes she also proceeded to blame it on the 18 month old: "I'm not the baby! I didn't make the mess!" Ya right kid. I watched you do it, I changed your trousers, and no one but the owner would play in a puddle of pee.

Fast facts, by Courtney.

Friday 20 April 2012

Year 28, Day 18: Employment Once More!!!

Congratulations to me!!!

After taking a month off, I am officially once again a contributing member of society!!! Yup. I got a job. I'm offically a London-er, or London-ite? Whatever. I'm employed god-damnit!

The employment, or unemployment, process has been my GREATEST pet-peeve this year and my MOST HATED experience over-seas. (Although 2 big shout-outs to the stalker and the assaulted-on-the-job situations.) Repeatedly I have been told that my Social Work experience in Canada is meaningless, and that employers want UK experience only. I think its my accent. Some people are ridiculously charmed by it. Others hate it. Regardless, this has resulted in me working ridiculous hours in a pub/night club for the majority of my time in the UK.

Now, upon moving to London I decided to avoid the night-club scene. Been there, done that.

First I tried the whole unemployment thing. Unfortunatly a happy-housewife I am not.
And this did not go well, not with the boyfriend, and not with the bank-account.

Then I got a job in a women's clothing store. That career lasted all of 2 days.
It took 3 hours of travel-time getting accross London each day: overground train, walk, underground tube, walk, bus, walk. Repeat to get home. Eff that noise.

So I applied to be a dog-walker. That plan didn't come to fruition either. (Although I do have a friend who now walks dogs in a posh London neighborhood, and her clients include dogs the likes of the CEO of the Fox UK tv network, numerous movie producers, and Emma Watson from the Harry Potter series.)

Finally, I got smart about things - I quit applying for jobs and let the jobs come to me. I tweaked my resume, created a former reference, went on gumtree.uk, and sold myself.... As a nanny.
You perverts.

One day later I had 10 potential employers, I choose one, and SHAZAM! I'm employed!!!!!

As a child-less, niece-less, nephew-less individual who may or may not be afraid of babies - shit could get interesting. I predict a learning curve coming on.

Ah-well, its a 10 minute walk from my house, the family will let me take time off to travel, its cash in-hand (peace-out tax man), they pay for my food, and the best part is - the kids have English accents. Everything is cuter in an English accent! Think circa "Ow! Charlie bit my finger!"