Mornings With Catherine: Responding/Manners

Here's the thing. I am surprisingly patient towards a lot of boondogglery, mostly because I'm a difficult human being myself, especially in the morning, and I feel it's not fair to judge someone who just woke up, but when something annoys me its like nails on a chalkboard. Example? Catherine's puppy noises.

I get it. Its 7am, it's abnormally cold in her mom’s house, and she would rather not be bossed around or asked questions. But ignoring me when I talk/acting like I don't exist OR responding with pouts, wiggles, and I really don't know what to call it other than sad puppy noises makes me CRAZY.

And here is really issue number two... When Catherine's mom isn't there I'd turn off the TV and boot camp this *ish but given that her mom responds to everything as if Catherine is fatally injured, nothing gets done when she is there. It makes the entire morning process impossible and we end up cramming everything into the last 5 minutes before we leave for school.

I suppose this is more of an AM venting session but my point here is that my mother was right. Yea, I said it. Children need to learn respect. They need to learn how to respond to people, especially adults. When I was younger, we had family friends that we called the ‘Bubba Twins’; mainly because we couldn’t tell them apart. They drove my mom nuts because, even as teenagers, they responded to everything with grunting noises. I understand that the children I work with are young but the bottom line is that if people/parents continue to give kids a hall pass on manners until they are the elusive “old enough”, it’s too late.

Mornings With Catherine.

 

This morning, I walked in at 6:45am to Catherine (age: 5) chewing gum with her mouth open and playing video games. I wanted to turn around and walk out. Somehow, I resisted.

Catherine has a certain “je ne sais quoi” about her. We have early morning tiffs over how its impossible to brush your teeth without the use of water, the need to turn off SpongeBob, how a cheese stick is not breakfast, and, of course, the tedious process of getting dressed. She picks out her own clothes and the combinations are priceless.

Some days involve tears. Some hers, some mine.

When I first got the job of taking her to school every morning I was told that she may give me the cold shoulder for a while. I had no idea they meant 3 months of it. The only advice I was given by the previous nanny was that Catherine liked PB&J for breakfast. Um, Ok. Thanks.

For the first few weeks I was lucky if Catherine even spoke to me. I appreciated the silence. I'm not a morning person. I quickly learned how to handle the morning tasks militantly. See the thing about Catherine is that she is a child of divorce. This means several things. One being that they rarely tell her no, because no one wants to be the bad guy, and second being that her parents live in 2 different homes, 5 blocks from each other. We have had several crying runs to the opposite house before school because it's Spirit Day and there's nothing red at her dad's or its gymnastics day and she needs uniform: black leggings (Which is a total lie. There is no "gymnastics uniform". Well, maybe in her head there is.).


Every morning, I come home with a story. Sometimes I think she might be the devil and sometimes she's absolutely hilarious. I'll share them here. Welcome to Mornings with Catherine.
 

I cleaned... Don't be mad?

 

(Imagine this plus dirty dishes, cat hair, and crushed cheerios everywhere)

 

 

Today, I went over to nanny a little boy that I see a few times a month. I take over any hours that the full-time nanny can’t do (Sick days, overtime, etc.). I got there just when his nap had started. The home looked like a bomb went off in it. Toys everywhere, food, cups, plates, mess. Gross. Both the mom and dad were sick and they apparently hadn’t gotten around to chasing a toddler around with a broom and Lysol wipes. The dad said “Sorry about the mess. If it doesn’t bother you, you can just leave it.” Then he left to run errands while the baby and the sick mom napped up stairs. 5 minutes in I couldn’t handle it. It bothered me. I picked up a broom and Lysol and started the process. I swept, did dishes, wiped everything down, and put the toys away before he came back 45 minutes later and caught me red handed. It went like this.

HIM: “Oh you didn’t have to.”
ME: “Oh, it’s ok. I’m a compulsive cleaner.”
HIM: “Oh, well, you know all you have to do is watch Jason, right?”
Me: “Well, yes but he is sleeping.”

He sounded distressed; like I made him feel badly about his house. I was just trying to do my job and help out. It’s not like me to be on the clock and just sit and watch divorce court for 2-3 hours when there are things to be done., regardless of if its within my “responsibilities” or not.

Was I wrong to clean? When IS it wrong to clean?!? What are the responsibilities of a part-time nanny?

Diaper Genie.

Today, at our little Super Bowl party, the woman that inspired this blog thanked me for her Diaper Genie II Elite by Playtex. She said it is by far the best present she got from anyone and she couldn’t be more thankful. She called it a lifesaver. Every new family needs one. Just thought I’d share.

Happy 'You're Fired' Day

 

I originally moved out to Los Angeles in order to pursue personal dreams of mine. The road to that, lead me to the day job of being a nanny, which I LOVE. This is why I juggle several families rather than just becoming a full time nanny for one set of working parents, or shacking up and just having my own. In order to stay sane, I have strict rules to protect everyone from bad situations: I usually only work for stay at home moms who either need me to cover for them while they volunteer or run errands. You may worry that I have a limited market, but don’t you fret, in Los Angeles this is not rare. In the case of Kevin, I choose to work for a mother who was currently in the process of releasing her first novel. The father is an architect. Originally, she only needed me for 9 hours a week: 9am-12pm on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. This was perfect for me. I was completely honest in my interview process about the situations that may arise given that I am out here for acting. Auditions and bookings get very little notice and I don’t like to catch people off guard. Cathy, Kevin’s mom, was fine with this and was overwhelming supportive of my goals. Within a week, Cathy decided she needed more hours. So we upped the 9-hour schedule to a 25-hour schedule that required me to keep Kevin on Wednesdays from 9am-6pm and included Saturdays. The house in under renovations, so, we set up a mini-day-care center in my guest bedroom.  (My boyfriend was thrilled.) Cathy made me promise that I wouldn’t move or quit in the near future and made me feel slightly guilty for the finders fee my nanny agency took. I had been working with this company for over a year and never knew the agency fee existed. My boyfriend had to talk me out of offering to split the new nanny’s finders fee if I decided to leave any where between 3-12 months. I finally told her life happens and I really wish I could help but I don’t think I can.

This situation became completely overwhelming for me quickly. I was going to behaviorist specialist with Cathy and Kevin, keeping him for 12 hours straight (meaning a  minimum 15 hours work day for me since I have Catherine every morning), going to doctors appointments, adding in extra hours, occasionally getting ripped off, feeling guilty for the castings I was going on, getting the stomach flu, and all while getting kicked and scratched. 

Don’t get me wrong Kevin’s adorable and everybody loves him but I was exhausted. I tried my best to hide it. I was biting off more than I could chew while I watched the mother waste time and not take advantage of my existence and then listened to her complain about it. I remained beyond supportive of her and we had mini therapy sessions, sometimes, her and sometimes me.

One morning I walked in and Cathy awkwardly started a conversation about needing more hours. My other family had just had a new baby and I’m pretty sure I had been working for 2-3 weeks straight including a few overnights with Lily. I smiled and nodded and told her, “okay”. She told me hat she needed more consistency and with everything I’m doing and she is doing she’s going get someone to work 5 days a week 9-12, aka she’s letting me lose.  I completely understood her situation and didn’t get even remotely upset. It was Monday and she told me my last day would be Friday. Um, ok. She asked if that was enough notice and I nodded while thinking, “Do I have a choice?” The next day I came in and she informed me that she couldn’t find anyone to replace me and was wondering if I could work the following Monday as well. “Sure!” I said politely with a smile on my face. I’m a doormat. After a week of supportive texts and BBMs, from my friends, encouraging me not walk out during some of Kevin’s tantrums; Monday came around. I walked in after taking Kevin to the park as Cathy skipped out of her office. “I have a surprise for you!!” Um ok? I thought. She pulled out a cake. I’m serious. I wanted to stand there silent or say “I didn’t quit, you fired me” but it seemed like she was really excited and I suppose we had some sort of bond, so instead I put a big smile on my face and said “ Oh My Gosh! Thank you! You’re so nice!” She opened up the cake box to a Red Velvet cake that said “Thank You Candace!” on it. I put Kevin down for his nap and we sat and had a mini office party for my Happy You’re Fired Day. I over heard her on the phone bragging that it was only $18 and then she sent me home with the cake. Thanks?

I do appreciate that I meant enough to her for her to want to show some kind of appreciation but I was startled by the entire event: from hired to fired to celebrating. I’m still not sure what to think about it but I wish Cathy, Kevin, and the new nanny all the best.

Maybe I’ll miss those two.

For those who think I made this up.