I was a nanny for many years for the same family. I moved there when I was 20 years old and I had wild dreams of what life would be like with the rich and famous. So much so that the agency called my father to verify whether 1) she was for real 2) her parents consented to her move and 3) whether or not she really understood what she was getting into.
I suppose I didn't. I knew I wanted to start fresh. I always wanted that since I was a young child. I wanted to be the new kid. Weird. I know. I also wanted to be foreigner. Ironic. I know. I befriended the first new kid in our second grade. She had red hair and she was born in England so she could count to ten with an English accent. We made a great pair because I could count to ten in Spanish.
So moving to the East Coast was a very logical choice for me. I would be doing what I could do best, take care of people/children. I would still have the structure and security of a family, home, support network. I would be independent and I could explore who I was separate from my family. The last statement wasn't a conscious choice, I didn't realize I even needed something like that.
However, what I imagined was a celebrity family in California. I would be their wise and patient nanny behind the cameras that inevitably and demurely would take the spotlight. I imagined a mansion, and when I learned of such a thing as a cottage for the help, I imagined that as well. Oh, I imagined ridiculous things...but the thing about my wild imagination, I was just as happy with what I got. A normal East Coast family, a tiny basement room, an average home with a dog and two cats, a nice neighborhood, a small community, and 40 minutes from New York City.
They were the perfect family for me. I stayed with them for many years - and I always said they took care of me just as much as (if not more than) I took care of them. The children were 8 and 13 when I began. Actually, the children weren't normal. They were nice. They were Jewish. They were funny. They were clever. They rarely had serious fights. (They must have had some, but I just can't recall theirs as easily as I can recall the many brawls we had in my own family).
I never imagined having my own nanny. I don't know - I guess I didn't think that far ahead, or when I did, I assumed I would be at home - because while I wanted to a career person, I couldn't imagine leaving little ones at home. But here I am - with a full house and a nanny. When we began looking for a nanny, I thought a lot about my experiences and about my "bosses". I lived with them, so I was a lot more involved with the family - and I expected this. So what made me stay? I always felt very respected in the family. From the day I came, the father would joke and cajole with the children "Ohhh, look what the nanny did!" Or "Thank the nanny!" Or "Ask the nanny!" and so on. The parents never asked me to work past 7pm or on the weekends. I was always willing, I had nothing to do and it sure didn't feel like work. But as the years progressed, I really began to appreciate this respect of my time. I was rarely asked to do "extra" things, even though I expected to be asked - and when I was - for example, picking up the dry cleaning - I was always thanked. Initially, I found it silly to be thanked for something I should do. It was against my upbringing. But then I learned how freeing it was too. I was doing things freely, because I wanted to help - not because I should. And not that I would ever resentfully do something (because I was young, eager, and willing), but it was a new value I learned. I played with the kids all the time, because that's just who I was - We had a blast playing ball, or going to the pool, or whatever adventure we thought of ... somethings cost money, and I was always given money for me and the kids. This was always an awkward aspect for me because I felt as if I should pay for myself, but I was usually given the money as a directive. I quite feebly offered to pay for my own meal at times - but it was always awkward. In retrospect, I wish I would have taken charge more often and just bought everybody's meal. I was such a child.
When we hired a nanny, I took these things into consideration: respect a person's time, thank her for everything, always pay - on time, ahead of time, anything they need.
So having a nanny now makes me think of the kid's mom - who I spent the most time with. She said to me last year when I first hired a nanny, "Now you see how important you were to the family."
Actually, I still didn't. I found our nanny annoying, and now I understood why snobby rich people complained about their help. Women are annoying, with annoying expectations and hidden emotions and agendas. In fact, I began to wonder how on earth did my boss put up with me all those years? What annoying habits must I have had? Let alone, the fact that you have to give up control of your house to someone so inferior. Our nanny did everything wrong. Even if she did everything right, I had to get over this emotional hump of: she wasn't me. I imagined myself being so respectful and treating the nanny as an equal -- but that was a lot harder in real life, I'm ashamed to say. In reality, I wanted to control everything.
Our first woman was a cold and efficient woman. She was 50, divorced, and retired from a government job. She came late and left early and had an opinion about everything.
Nanny: "I think the Turkey is done."
Me: "Oh, you have cooked a Turkey before."
Nanny: "No," (ha ha) "but I've eaten one."
She worked with us for six months, she was kind enough, and always did what we asked (even if she disagreed, which she also let us know). In the end, she decided it was too much work for her.
We agreed.
Our second woman was a young girl. Twenty years old - I was charmed as she reminded me of myself . . . (sigh)... except she was married, and had a two-and-a-half year old child. Our logic told us she wasn't going to work - the commute was too far, she had her own family - but she insisted he could do it.
She worked very hard for the trial week. Doing way more than we asked. Our in-laws were living with us, so we asked for a house keeper/nanny. She mostly cleaned all day - in between texting and smoking. She wasn't supposed to be doing either of course - but she'd sneak into the bathroom and out to the balcony. We weren't so horrified to learn these things, as Tolga's parents were there to keep an eye on the kids and the girl was quite young - so we assumed teachable.
She wasn't.
She lasted one month.
Our last nanny - we still have - and she has made me understand what my boss told me: now you understand how important you were to the family. This woman is my age, and she is like a sister to me. I don't understand her most of the time - but she has a warm and gentle heart. I would pay anything to keep her because she does give me a peace of mind. My in-laws feel free with her, I feel happy to have her in the kids' lives.
She has a light sense of humor, never complains ... actually, I have really hard time reading her. I'm not sure what gifts to give her or what she's happy about or not happy about. Once, we gave her a long weekend off. I was driving to meet Tolga and she called that evening to see how I fared on the trip with the kids. Tolga answered the phone and explained to her how my trip hadn't gone so well - I had dislocated my shoulder while driving and ended up in the hospital and now we were all on our way back to Ankara. Her response was so strange - she didn't even seem surprised, she simply offered to come help us the next day. I can't read her yet, but I do believe she really cares for our family - and in true Turkish style - cried hard when we parted for the summer.
I want to be as good to her as my family was to me.
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