Alexandra's Daddy

Increasingly dads are taking part in looking after the children, giving mums a bit of a break, or are they really?

Alexandra’s dad had a tendency to wake his girls up to make sure that they were still alive. It didn’t matter if the newborn was sleeping blissfully; he just had to give them a poke here and a poke there. Sometimes when he was not satisfied with the baby’s reaction, he would place his big cold hand on the baby’s front and shake until the baby opened her eyes to look at him. I had witnessed him doing this to Alexandra’s younger sisters. He explained that he had to do it to be sure. I used to tell him to observe the baby quietly and he would see that the sleeping baby’s tummy would rise up and down. At times, he managed to startle the poor baby. Not knowing how to calm the baby, he would pass the baby to me or to mum. What did his wife think? She told me that he was just being a caring dad.

In the evenings, the girls’ mum had to rush to get the children to bed after I left because dad would like her attention all to himself. He didn’t want the girls to distract him after a long working day. Bedtime for the two younger girls was easy because they pretty much stuck to their routine on most days, unless one of them was not well or if one of them was being kept awake by tricky Alexandra. Bedtime for Alexandra was a battle on most days. She would start to play up the moment I left. (The funny thing was that Alexandra stuck to the routine as expected when I babysat on some nights.) The idea was to have all girls sleeping, which was quite achievable on most nights. On some nights if tricky Alexandra was still awake, she would be told to stay in bed. Mum was under a lot of stress and I could always tell when she had had a stressful night when I turned up the next day.

The girls’ dad would usually come home at around 8:30 pm. This daddy could enjoy a little peace downstairs but he chose to go about it as loudly as possible. Apparently he would talk and laugh loudly. Without a special, private cinema or entertainment room, he would turn on the surround sound system to watch movies as loudly as possible in the living room. The downstairs living areas of this house were open plan and the noise travelled straight into the children’s bedrooms upstairs waking them up. This was especially hard for any babies who were sleeping in the office, which wasn’t really a room and had no doors to block any noise. (During my time working for this family, each newborn slept in the office. First Millie slept there and then Olivia.) He would then get angry because the children weren’t in bed and had ruined his evening.

On some nights when this daddy was in a happy or playful mood, he would invite the ‘offending’ child to come downstairs to join him. If the children were asleep, he would select one, two or three of the children to join him. He wouldn’t be content with just telling them a story or doing something quietly. He would wake them up totally by doing something silly like jumping on the couch or bed, playing hide and seek and watching movies. When he was exhausted, he would retire to bed and mum would be left to tuck the children back in bed again. The junk food and the fizzy drinks would keep Alexandra wide awake for hours and mum had to stay with her to make sure that she didn’t disturb Millie, who shared a bedroom with her. Mum was also always worried that Alexandra may ‘attack’ Olivia in the office.

This daddy didn’t think he was doing anything wrong. He didn’t understand that children need to live within the boundaries of a regular routine to learn how to behave appropriately as an individual being on Earth. As a nanny, I am a strong believer in establishing a routine for each child. This does not mean designing a strict rigid routine. The routines I prefer are reasonably flexible to follow the child’s development. For instance if a child is expected to go to bed at 8:00 pm because that’s his routine, he is of course allowed to go to bed prior to 8:00 pm if he has had a busy day. He is also allowed to go to bed later if he has been fussing because he is teething. The flexibility depends on the child’s needs. Waking up a sleeping child (or a child who is trying to sleep) to play hide and seek is not respecting the child’s right to his bedtime routine. Children find it hard to gauge what is expected of them regularly and what is not. Those who do not see their dads regularly would prefer to stay up to play and would come to expect it every night. This was what happened to Alexandra. She didn’t understand that dad didn’t want to have anything to do with her on most nights. Just when she had sometimes gone to bed and least expected anything fun to happen, she might be woken up to play with dad. If children are sometimes forced with threats to stay in bed to give mum and dad the time to entertain themselves, and then woken deliberately to play with dad at other times, they are more than likely to become confused.

I had told Alexandra’s mum to ask her husband to turn down the volume of his own speech or the surround sound system. She told me that the house was also his home. She wasn’t prepared to tell him what to do and how to act in his own home. To do that was inappropriate.

Velcro Shoes

I love shoes with Velcro fasteners. In fact, I love anything invented to help young children to master life skills more easily. I read somewhere that Velcro was first invented for use by NASA during outer space missions. It is such a versatile thing.

When toddlers first learn to put shoes on by themselves, the initial objective is to actually have the shoes put on properly on each foot. Thongs and slip-on shoes are easy to put on but they usually do not offer as much support. Shoes with Velcro fasteners, buckles and laces offer the user adjustments to suit his/her own comfort level. Shoes with Velcro fasteners are the easiest for a toddler to master by far. They are easy to adjust and to fasten. Later when the child is ready for the challenge, shoes with buckles and then shoes with laces can be introduced. Allow the children plenty of opportunities to practice during the day by turning it into a game to try on different clothing items. Most children would enjoy spending time doing this with an adult. Time management is always important when working with children. If children are expected to dress themselves, be prepared to give them an ample amount of time to do so. The last thing a busy adult wants is to battle to put a shoe on for a wilful toddler who insists on putting it on by him/herself.

Almost all children go through a stage of not knowing which shoe to put on which foot. Stella’s mum has a neat idea. She taught Stella to take off her shoes and place each one in front of her in the right order before picking them up and placing them neatly on her shoe rack. This way, Stella could put them on without asking for help because they are already in the right order.

Another trick I used to teach pre-school aged children is to encourage them to look at the soles of the shoes. The straight edge is always on the outside of the foot and the curved edge in on the inside. Some children may not understand it immediately but they usually do after plenty of practice.

Shoes with Velcro fasteners also almost always have tabs fastened to the outer side of the foot. This feature too can act as a reminder for children to learn to put their shoes on in the right order.

Bree & Her Potties

Bree is all set to learn to use the potty. We have started on the journey for two weeks now. She was at first reluctant to do her business on it even though she was quite happy to sit on it fully clothed at other times. There is now a potty in the bathroom upstairs and another one in the powder room downstairs. Next to each potty is a step stool. There is also another step stool in her bedroom, next to the change table. She is beginning to learn to take her own clothes off.

According to Bree’s mum on Saturday, she caught Bree just in time to sit her on the potty to do her poo. Until that day, Bree had been reluctant, preferring to do her business in the nappy in one corner of the living room. After she did her business in the potty on Saturday, her mum praised her and she took off before her bottom was cleaned. Bree’s mum thought that her daughter got the hang of it and expected it to happen again on Sunday. Unfortunately, neither she nor dad caught Bree in time.

Bree’s dad opened the door to let me in on Monday. He was happy and directed me to the powder room where I could hear the mother and daughter talking. Bree was sitting on her potty and her mum was sitting on the stepping stool next to her when I popped my head in to greet them. Bree looked up at me and said, “Poos.” Her delighted mum told me that Bree did wees as well. What a welcome I received.

Bree’s mum had decided to invest in pants with full elasticised waist to help her learn how to take off her pants more easily. Bree is one of the best dressed children I ever look after. She wears more European labels than the French girls that I used to babysit for. When she was a baby, she used to wear these European one piece suits with buttons on her back. She was cute as a button but they were quite hard to put on a baby who didn’t like to lay on her front. A typical pair of Bree’s jeans or pants has half elasticised waist with a fly front and button closure. The zipper and the button made it difficult for a toddler to take the pants off easily. Some may think that’s my (or another adult’s) job to help the child to take her pants off but I think it is important for children to learn to master simple life skills. One should observe children beaming with pride when they have achieved something for themselves. Full elasticised pants are easier to manage for now. Pants, jeans or clothes with complicated fastenings can be re-introduced later and with lots of practice, the child will be dressing and undressing herself speedily in time to come.

Target CBD Becoming a Friendly Store?

I shopped at the Target store in the CBD ever since it first opened its doors in 1994. It was a Coles Fossey store before that. I never quite enjoyed shopping at Target CBD but had to because it was the only one of that kind of store in the city until 2003. You should have seen how delighted I was when Big W opened at QV.

What was so unpleasant about the Target CBD store? Well, I absolutely couldn’t stand the security guards they used to hire. They made me feel like I had committed a crime just for entering the store. I may be a poor nanny but frugal me has a tendency to not enter a store unless I am willing to part with my cash and purchase some things. I definitely do not STEAL. Do not get me wrong. I don’t mind the employees hired to greet shoppers at the entrances of all Target stores and neither do I mind having my bags searched when I leave the store without purchasing anything because the item advertised in the catalogue was not in stock. Big W at QV has employees that greet and check shoppers as well but they don’t have scary security guards that turn a simple shopping trip into a journey to hell.

From 1995 – late 2003 / early 2004, they had a security guard who annoyed me terribly. I understood he was hired to watch out for shop-lifters but his attitude really sucked. (Sorry for the terrible language.) He stalked customers, including me. I didn’t then and I still do not understand now, why he targeted me. He would appear within minutes of me entering the store. I have seen him in action when I was not the victim. He would stalk almost like a wild animal prowling for their prey. He must have earned plenty of praise from his employers because I have seen police called in to take away shop-lifters he caught. I could just visualise him smiling like a Cheshire cat. Urggh!

From around 1999 – 2003, the security guard mentioned above acquired a sidekick. The younger bloke was quite cute actually. He reminded me of an actor on CSI Miami. The two worked hard to catch plenty of shop-lifters. This Robin wannabe would radio him whenever he saw me and within a minute or two, I would find Batman either hiding behind some shelves/racks or conveniently walking in my direction. It was downright annoying.

How did he come to ‘hate’ me? (Yes. I am aware that Hate is a big bad word.) Well, I think he began to focus on me when I distracted him from a successful kill many years ago. I was checking out some books when a little boy came to me crying because he was lost. Now, I do not know why the boy approached me as I wasn’t even dressed as Mary Poppins. As I wasn’t the adult in charge of this little boy, I thought I would just hand him over to someone from the store. If this happened on the street, I would hand the child over to a policeman (that is if I can find one). As this happened inside a store, I thought I would hand him over to either a store clerk or another employee. Guess who was right around the corner? Batman the fearless security guard! So, I took the child to him and explained what had happened. It was only then I realised that he was busy stalking or watching a dude at the CD section. He turned around and barked “Deal with it.” I told him that’s not my job and left the boy sobbing next to him. Luckily the boy’s family appeared soon after. They thanked him like a hero but he was not impressed at all. That’s how it started. After that incident, he never let me shop in peace again.

I saw less of this nasty bloke from around 2004. Gradually another tubbier security officer took over. My friends and I nicknamed this guy teletubbie. He was slightly friendlier but still stalked or watched me just the same. Some of my friends reckoned that he was actually a friend of mine that I was trying to hide from. By then I didn’t care if all of the security officers at Target CBD had a problem with me. I didn’t have to shop there as often anymore and if I really had to buy something from Target, I would travel all the way to the Target stores in either Malvern Central or Highpoint. Big W opened its doors at QV in September 2003. In terms of shopping, Big W and Safeway were a big welcome to a poor nanny like me.

I did visit the Target CBD store twice lately. The first time I went there was a few weeks ago, the store was undergoing the first stage of a series of renovations. I didn’t see teletubbie. In fact, I didn’t see any security officers. The lady manning the Little Bourke St entrance saw that I was collecting a catalogue ending that day offered me a new catalogue advertising items on discount starting from the next day. She was warm and cheerful. I was there again last Thursday, after work, to get a friend a Gift Card for her birthday. I didn’t want to go there at first but this friend really loves shopping at Target. As I enter the store, I looked for catalogues again but there were none left. The greeter immediately offered me a copy but then realised that he didn’t have any either. To my surprise, he offered to go to the other end of the store to get me a copy! This has never occurred to me in the past. Is Target trying to score Brownie points? With the warm welcome, I decided to look around the store. I saw a security officer downstairs in the basement. He was just walking around like a normal person. He wasn’t preying like a monster.

I don’t think all shoppers should be treated rudely by nasty security guards. I am aware that they are many shop-lifters around but it is unfair to judge shoppers for no reason. (Yes, I do absolutely believe that they had no reasons to see me as a THIEF.) Shops should really utilize the use of surveillance cameras more in this day and age to give shoppers a chance to shop in peace. Of course machines may have their limits. In that case, hire security officers who do their jobs and are yet courteous to shoppers.

As a nanny, I am police checked. As a shopper, I am not police checked when I enter a store. Funnily, one greeter from Target CBD commented that I am a honest shopper because I always presented my bag for search on my way out. Honestly, I would rather go through Airport style checks if I am requested to if it gives them a peace of mind and an opportunity for me to shop without judgement.

Naked Dad! - An Embarassing Incident

This sticky moment happened when I was working as a nanny for the first time. Up until I started with this first family, I had little experience working inside a family home.

On that cold winter day, I was preparing breakfast for the boys. My job in the morning was to make sure that William and Hans had breakfast and got ready for school. The boys’ mum was trying to comfort a grouchy Tommy, who was teething. She was doing that while trying to load the washing machine. Just after the front loader was turned on, Tommy stood in front of the machine crying and pointing. His mum scooped him up as William went over to the machine to inspect what Tommy was pointing to. Unable to console him, she began to look for his cuddly (a muslin square/nappy). She asked me about its whereabouts and I reminded her that she was holding it before. To that, William told his mum the cuddly was probably in the washing machine. Having already finished his breakfast, cheeky Hans began to tease Tommy to make him cry even more and then bullied William for revealing the fact. Before things got any worse I was asked to go get a ‘fresh’ cuddly from Tommy’s room. I ran quickly up the stairs and came down faster without the cuddly. Why didn’t I fetch what I was told?

I walked back to the kitchen slowly, hoping that Tommy had settled down. When I entered, Tommy was sitting on his mum’s lap sucking on his thumb while she was reading a bill. I thought Tommy seemed fine and went about helping the boys to clear the table. I was checking William’s bag to see if he had his lunch box and smock when his mum realised I was back. She had this puzzled look on her face and then asked, “Where did you go? Are the boys ready?” She looked down on her lap at Tommy and then thanked me for getting the cuddly. She was talking about how Tommy was not able to live without the cuddly when I told her that I didn’t get one for him. She looked down at him again before he started crying. She said, “I thought you just went up there to get a ‘fresh’ cuddly.” I told her I couldn’t. By then, Tommy’s cry was irritating her. She passed him to me and went upstairs to fetch one herself. The boys and I waited for her at the front door. We could hear laughter upstairs. Hans yelled, “What is so funny mummy?” There was no answer. Minutes later, she came down the stairs clutching a fresh cuddly for Tommy, kissed him goodbye and ushered the older boys to the car. Once the front door slammed shut, I knew the next awkward moment would happen soon. I picked Tommy up, praying that he didn’t need a nappy change and headed straight for the kitchen. On the way in, I closed the glass door behind me. I placed him at his corner, making sure he was happy playing with his plastic vehicles before keeping myself busy washing his bottles at least 3 times. Soon enough, I saw the shadow of the boys’ dad in the hallway. I think he also felt that I was embarrassed and decided to wave me goodbye without entering the kitchen. He left for work without kissing Tommy. What happened when I got up the stairs?

In this beautiful Victorian house, Tommy and William’s room was next to the master bedroom. The second flight of stairs leads straight into the big master bedroom. To get to Tommy’s room, I just had to turn right on the landing. On that day, the master bedroom door was wide open and this exposed the whole bedroom as well as the ensuite to anyone who happened to be on the landing. I could even hear the sound of water as I was climbing up the second flight of stairs. Just before I turned right, I caught sight of the boys’ dad showering. He was standing under the shower stark naked waving at me. I think I stood there frozen for a few seconds because I wasn’t sure if I was really looking at what I was looking at. When I realised it was for real, I dashed down the stairs on the double. It wasn’t like I haven’t seen a naked person before. I guess I was shocked because I wasn’t expecting someone to be waving at me in such a situation.

On the following Saturday, I had to babysit Tommy and William for a few hours while their mum and dad took Hans to the cinema. I didn’t look forward to it because I knew he would be home. I think the couple made the decision to apologise to me. The boys’ mum thoughtfully gathered them at the ‘front room’ (a place where the boys were normally not encouraged to enter) so he could talk to me in the kitchen. He apologised and explained that he didn’t mean to give me such a fright. He was more mindful after that. Sometimes, the boys mum would ask if I minded, before sending me up to the younger boys’ room if he was home. Other times, she would give me the signal jokingly announcing, “The coast is clear.”

I enjoyed working for this family. I do not have anything to whinge about them except that Hans was quite a handful. They were exceptionally good to me. I never expected an apology from someone like the dad. I thought as a top executive for the Asian-Pacific region of a famous international company, he would see little of me. How wrong I was. From the very first time I met him, I was requested to call him by his first name. He isn’t a show off. For William and Hans (when he was younger), the boys knew only that dad ‘counted’ things at work. Dad didn’t want them to have a ‘big head’. He would sometimes read the paper and then asked me opinions on what I thought on business and finance. He has a loud voice but he never used it to belittle or patronize me. After a year of a fun first experience as a nanny, the family left Melbourne for London as the dad climbed the ladder to secure himself a new posting. The boys’ mum was overjoyed by the news as she was finally going home. I agreed too that the boys would enjoy part of their childhood in England.

This post was initially about my awkward moment seeing a naked dad. What should a nanny do in similar situations? Do you carry on as if nothing happened? Do you say anything? As in my case, how do you explain to the mum?

Beer for a Good Night Sleep

Within months of looking after the then one year old Alexandra, I had washed out milk bottles on two separate occasions that had been previously filled with beer. The first time I washed one, I didn’t think that much of it. I thought it was just a mistake and that it couldn’t possibly be beer. Then it happened again a few weeks later. That time I asked Alexandra’s mum for an explanation but she was busy trying to get ready to leave the house. She explained that Alexandra’s dad gave her some beer to help her go to sleep. I was flabbergasted even though I had not witnessed the parents giving the beer to Alexandra on either occasion. All I did was wash two bottles that smelled of beer on two different mornings. I do not know how much was given and how often it had occurred prior to me working there. Fortunately I didn’t have to wash anymore beer smelling bottles after the second incident. I am not entirely sure to this day, but my enquiry could have put a stop to it. Alexandra is a tricky girl who is always full of energy. I suspected that a daily routine was never carried out in her first year of life and this partially affected her ability to calm down. Things were further exacerbated by a dad who insisted on living life with little consideration for another little bundle of energy living under the same roof as him. I think I will post about interesting dads another time.

Walker Wagons

I have loved walker wagons since the first time that I saw them, when I was doing my first round of practicals training to be a Pre-school Mothercraft Nurse. I remember observing an older baby who was already crawling at the time, holding onto the side of the wagon, trying to get up so that he could hold the bar like another child nearby. He tried for a while but was simply not confident enough at the time to stand up on his two feet while holding onto the bar. Instead, the boy just got behind the wagon, grabbed hold of its back and pushed it as he tried to ‘walk’ on his knees. It was like he was crawling semi-upright. During the two weeks that I was there he never progressed beyond this stage but he often came back to it and was happy to keep on practising.

Almost every child that I have looked after from babyhood as a nanny has used a walker wagon. It is a safer option compared to the ‘traditional’ walkers that parents used to strap their children into. The child is able to manage this activity and can let go or keep going as he/she wishes and is therefore able to move onto something else without adults’ intervention. That said, safety in the environment is still very important and supervision is definitely required. This is especially relevant if the child is playing on uneven surfaces and near stairwells without safety gates.

The son of a friend of mine was playing with his walker wagon when Mum stepped into the bedroom to pick up her purse. Suddenly something came crashing down the wooden stairwell. She rushed out to find her child at the edge of the stairs. The noise was made by the walker wagon tumbling down the stairs. Luckily the boy let go of the wagon but my friend was in total shock thinking that her son must have fallen down the stairs with the walker wagon. It could have happened. Now imagine a child strapped into one of those ‘traditional’ walkers. The consequences could have been far worse. My friend and his husband are first time parents and had put off installing safety devices. They bought and installed safety gates that very day and they were thankful their son wasn’t hurt.

Another friend also bought a walker wagon for her daughter. I remember how it was heavier than most that I have seen. She told me the wagon was made by an organization for disabled people. I wish I can remember the details so I can inform everyone reading this blog. Her husband also filled up the wagon with wooden blocks given to the girl for Christmas to add extra weight. This prevented the wagon from tipping over as she learned to pull herself up into a standing position. The weight also made it difficult for the wagon to move too easily. This made it easier for her to control in the beginning. Before the family left Australia, the then toddler, used to place her favourite teddy bears in the wagon to take for a walk.

Stella’s Play Date

I take Stella to a bigger park on Thursdays. It is further away but there are more things for Stella to do there. We used to take the Mountain Buggy but now that she is 4 (and a bit) years old, she is quite able to walk the distance herself. We still take the Mountain Buggy if she has not been feeling too well.

We met another nanny with her young charge early this year. The little boy, Lachlan, is a few months younger than Stella and they played very well together. They too live further away from this playground. This friendly nanny suggested that we meet up on Thursdays so that the children could play together. I dutifully asked for permission and got it. Stella was over the moon. The two would normally play for about an hour.

As nannies, we spent our working days talking to ‘little people’. It is a fresh change to be able to talk to another adult. Lachlan’s nanny is older than me but we always have a lot to talk about. This doesn’t mean that we neglect the children. We still make sure that they don’t get into trouble and help them when they need it.

Recently Stella went to the bakery at the village with her mum. She spotted Lachlan with his mum. Confident as ever, she went over to greet him. He was surprised and gasped, “It’s you again!” He must have been surprised to see her at a bakery rather than the playground. According to her mum, that was a unique moment because she had not seen Stella’s special friend from the playground before, and didn’t know that they had such a good friendship. The women apparently introduced themselves and exchanged phone numbers. Lachlan’s mum said that she was trying to check through the faces she had in her head of Lachlan’s classmates. She was pretty sure that she has not seen Stella before. Of course she hasn’t. They don’t go to the same kindergarten.

I Rediscovered ALDI

I normally shop at Safeway Supermarket at QV. Together with Big W next door, their service has been good. I guess that is because they serve people from all sorts of backgrounds and are happy to accept any paying customers.

On the weekend, I rediscovered ALDI. I visited the store when it opened last year and didn’t return until Sunday. I guess that’s because I find QV handy to get all my shopping done. The ALDI store in the Melbourne CBD is situated on Franklin Street (behind what used to be the Ansett building).

As with all ALDI stores, service is kept to a minimum but what little service I got at the checkout was a pleasant one. I bought a bag of small apples for only $0.19. Yes! It was 19 cents. I also bought a container of kiwis for only $0.99. At first, I thought the fruits’ quality may not be great but they turned out to be perfect as normal.

While I was still looking around inside the store, an elderly gentleman requested help to find a certain item and the worker (probably a uni kid) was more than happy to assist him. Unlike some shops I have been to, the conversation between the two was warm and friendly. I am not paid to recommend ALDI. I am doing this because I had a good time shopping there on Sunday and I will definitely shop there again soon.

Bree and the Big Tricycle

In my last post on Bree, I heard that she was receiving a new tricycle from her grandma Ettie. Being a smart cookie, Ettie actually bought the tricycle via mail order so that she didn’t have to carry such a heavy box all the way from Sydney to Melbourne. She even tried to time it so the package arrived in Melbourne at the same time she did. The tricycle did arrive before Ettie, and Bree’s dad was instructed to put it together. Everyone was very excited to ‘witness’ Bree receiving her new mode of transport. No one was expecting the bike to be too big for her. That is what happened. Bree is still too small for it; her feet can’t reach the pedals even when the seat is moved forward. Although the tricycle does come with a bar for the adult to push the younger child, Bree’s dad was a little disappointed because he has to now wait a little longer before his only daughter is able to learn the art of pedalling.

Bree showed me her big ‘bike’ when I arrived on Monday morning. She called it a bike. Her dad told me that it will be stored away for now. Bree didn’t seem to mind one bit. She spent the morning zipping down the hallway on her cute Wheely Ladybug. She received that last Christmas and has only become fond of it in the last couple of months. Outside in the backyard, Bree has a small plastic buggy/scooter. She is happy riding that outdoors because it is low to the ground and easier to manage. Because it didn’t come with a push-bar, her parents do not allow it to be ridden outside of the backyard.

Food Worries 1

One can read an article or two in the newspapers concerning childhood obesity or childhood eating disorders every few weeks. These sorts of media reports make parents worry. I think parents who are self-conscious and have lower self-esteem (Yes! Pregnancy and childbirth do not get rid of low self-esteem) are more easily effected by such issues. I have met such parents over the years and from my experiences of working with such mums, I can see the need for women to address any food issues (and/or other social emotional issues) so they don’t ‘accidentally’ pass on the wrong lessons to the next generation. Not all parents are making mistakes unconsciously; many are actually aware or have been made to be aware of the situation but choose to continue making the same mistakes for various reasons or excuses. The following are a couple of examples:

Bella is the cousin of Alexandra, Millie and Olivia (girls I have mentioned in previous posts). Their parents used to share me as their nanny. Bella was nearly 1 year old when I started working for her family. She ate mostly commercial baby foods. Up until then, I had only worked with families who had refused to feed their children commercial baby foods. Bella and later on, her sister, and their cousins ate commercial baby foods and other processed foods. It was an eye-opening experience.

Within a couple of weeks of looking after Bella, I noticed that she was experiencing trouble with her bowel movements. It was always done with great difficulty and the amount of poo was always very little. I recorded it down anyhow. I also noticed that Bella was constantly snacking and a bottle of juice was always stuck in her mouth whenever she was awake. By juice I mean undiluted long life juices or those blue coloured pop-top drinks. She never drank water or ate vegetables (except corn or whatever was already included in those cans of baby food). Her favourite snack at the time was Allen’s snakes. Although Bella was a month younger than Alexandra, she was rounder and heavier. I do thank God however that Bella was an easy child to look after. She was less active and her personality was a lot calmer.

A couple of months later, I noticed that I hadn’t recorded a poo for Bella for a few weeks. Since I was not working for them everyday, I thought that she must have done poo on the other days or before I arrived in the morning. It is not uncommon for a baby to do a poo only once every few days. Each person is programmed to have her/his own schedule. I did periodically see her straining at the coffee table and I checked her nappy as soon as I smelled something, but there wasn’t anything there most of the time. Eventually, I confronted her mum who explained that Bella doesn’t poo very often and that she thought Bella had been doing poos when I was looking after her (this also revealed that mum didn’t read my written records of the child’s day). I told her this is worrying because I have seen Bella straining with no end results.

Bella’s mum and I spoke about the issue again another day. I told her that it is not normal for a child to cry when he/she is doing poos. She said that it has been like that for a while and thought it was normal because Bella inherited it. She told me the story of Bella’s aunt who had a ruptured bowel or something. I didn’t know what that meant (I am not a medical doctor) and suggested that she consult their doctor as soon as possible. I also took the opportunity to gently suggest the idea of Bella eating ‘real’ home-cooked foods for a change. I told her that I cooked simple foods for Alexandra and she loved them. She agreed to try and asked me to email her a list of foods needed for the following week. I then suggested providing Bella with drinks of water from a cup (at least a trainer cup). To this, mum told me that they are able to afford the juice. My glasses nearly fell off when I heard this. I wasn’t expecting such a fashion conscious and fitness crazy mum to think that I was referring to the cost of juice. I was instead thinking about the empty calories and damage to Bella’s teeth. Now readers, I am aware that mild constipation among young children can be ‘cured’ with pieces of prunes, dates or a nice refreshing drink of orange/apple juice, but it was clearly evident in this case that Bella’s constant binge on ‘juice’ was not helping her at all. Eating fresh pieces of fruits is a much healthier option.

Bella did eventually go to the doctor and was referred to a specialist. Her parents chose not to tell me the full story, except that she was being monitored and that her diet was very low on fibre. She was put on some kind of medication but this was usually done before I arrived for the day. Her aunt (Alexandra’s mum) told me the news about Bella wasn’t good but Bella’s parents were always on their guard when it came to their privacy.

Since seeing the specialist, her diet changed a little. She was given her first trainer cup and began to enjoy a little bit of home-cooked food. She never developed the taste for fresh drinking water and was still offered juice all day. She ate breakfast cereals like Weet-Bix and Sultana Bran a couple of times a week, and sugary breakfast cereals like Fruit Loops and Coco Pops on other days. She has a sweet tooth and demanded sugar to be sprinkled on top of all breakfast cereals. Her bowel movements did improve a little over time but it later affected her time at kindergarten. The teachers refused to manage a child who still needed a nappy for doing poos in. This meant that she sometimes missed the entire morning because she felt that she needed to do a poo and wouldn’t leave the house until it had happened. On bad days, she had to stay at home rather than go to the kindergarten.

Bella’s cousin Alexandra, who enjoyed eating sticks and not lamb, has a healthy appetite. Her sisters are just like her too. In comparison to Bella’s diet, theirs were much healthier (not including the parents’ sabotage). On the days that I worked they ate home-cooked foods. I tried my best to offer the younger girls real foods rather than rely only on commercial baby foods. They loved all sorts of vegetables. Vegetables I had given them included Broccoli, Brussel Sprouts, Capsicums, Broccolini, Asparagus, mushrooms, spinach, squash, pumpkin and others that I can’t remember. The girls would eat them without any protest. In one of my earlier post, Alexandra didn’t want to eat dinner but that was because of another issue and not the taste or texture of the food. They were also meat eaters who loved lamb, beef, fish, chicken and turkey. They also drank lots of water.

Many parents are happy to be blessed with children who are happy to eat healthily. I have heard of one little Larry who looked into his chocolate milkshake from MacDonald’s, poking his straw round and round to see if a broccoli was hiding in it before taking his first sip. So, how can the parents sabotage these girls’ healthy eating habits?

From the time Alexandra first entered kindergarten she was offered more junk food on a regular basis. Her parents didn’t want her to miss out and have less fun than the other children. Junk food was previously available to Alexandria but never to such a large extent. The kindergarten Alexandra attended was a Nut-Free zone. This meant that the children were discouraged from sharing food with their friends, and parents were not allowed to pack lunches containing any nuts in the ingredients used. They were aware that a few of the children in Alexandra’s class had nut allergies, but chose to pack mini Nuttela packs into her lunchbox. I once got told off when I went to pick up Alexandra, because the head teacher was told that I was a live-in nanny and she naturally assumed that I had packed the lunch. (Nannies are told off for mistakes but parents are usually gently reminded of the school’s rules.) The parents became angry with the school and argued that Alexandra was being discriminated because she wasn’t allowed to try different foods. My eyes nearly popped out when I heard that. There was simply no empathy for children with allergies in the school community.

Alexandra’s father wanted his children to have as much fun as possible. Every afternoon after school, the children would binge on junk foods until mum (if she was home) exploded into a rage and confiscated everything. Days before school holidays, Dad would order mum to restock the pantry with a list of junk foods that he had approved. Porridge, toasts and Weet-bix were not approved to be a great way to start the day during school holidays, according to their father. In fact porridge was always frowned upon because it was something that the ‘less fortunate’ ate. In came sugary cereals, frozen meals (e.g. nuggets, pizzas), fizzy drinks, flavoured milk, lollies, chocolates, ice-cream, etc. Please do not be mistaken. This was not a party to celebrate the end of term and was not a one off binge. This kind of binge eating lasts throughout the day and starts on the first day of the holidays through to the last day. Sometimes I thought the children actually missed ‘real’ foods. There had been times when the girls asked for porridge and their dad responded by making a face, or asked the girls, “Why do you want that for?”

Millie and Olivia never experienced life with less junk food in their home environment. They were born into it. They ate them because that was what was expected. Luckily the girls were willing to also eat healthy foods. Alexandra and Olivia also inherited a very slender figure like their mother and paternal grandmother. At that time, it wasn’t obvious that these two girls were affected by this sort of binge eating. The biggest impact was the behavioural changes on Alexandra. The junk foods made her very hyperactive. I observed changes within an hour of her eating some of these things. She can become very defiant and would never sit still. She would be always on the go and have difficulty concentrating on anything that she was doing. This, her mum thought, was because she was all cooped up at home. I would take the girls to the park (twice a day on school holidays) and even there she would terrorise the other children. That, her mum thought, was because these neighbourhood kids weren’t from Alexandra's kindergarten. I have no solution for this because I couldn’t make the children at the park (also from Toorak) attend her school, and most of her playdates with friends from her school were arranged on days when I was not working. From what I have heard these playdates also tend to end disastrously. I wonder why?

As for Millie, I will leave her food issues for another post. Look out for Food Worries 2. To me, what happened to Millie is how some parents can condition their children into having an eating disorder. It all seemed so natural….

Toy Library Membership

There are many services provided by local councils to help parents throughout Victoria. One of my favourite is the Toy Library. I believe Toy Libraries exist in many suburbs and that many children (rich and poor) benefited from them.

Toy libraries provide their members a selection of top quality toys to use at home. The children are welcome to come in and select a toy, or their parents may pick something for them as a surprise to take home. The toys are not just any old licensed product. The selection that I have seen in my work was rather impressive. I have seen wooden puzzles and games that one would normally find in the catalogues of top quality toy shops like Windmill. There were sandpit toys, trucks, baby’s toys, dollhouses and wooden toys. These are the kind of toys seen in many kindergartens or day care centres. A few girls that I have looked after have also borrowed pieces of wooden ‘furniture’ (e.g. wooden oven, wooden ‘hills’ hoist, wooden ironing board with wooden iron) to add to their home-corner at home. There were also some ‘big ticketed’ items by brands such as Little Tikes and Step 2. These items include the popular Little Tikes Cosy Coupe, Little Tikes kitchens, small slides for young toddlers and walker wagons. Mind you, access to a station wagon or 4WD would be handy to take these big toys home.

Children go through various stages of development in the first six years of life. They are interested in different things as they grow. On top of food, clothes and shoes, parents are spending a lot of money equipping their little ones with the latest range of toys and other modern day ‘necessities’. Over time, a household with 3 children may end up looking like they have enough toys and other items to operate their own childcare business. (Do take this lightly. I do know that regulations exist to control the quality and management of child care centres.) This is why I personally think a toy library membership is such a good idea for those of us who are budget conscious. Rather than buying every single popular item on the market, parents can borrow them from the library. There are enough toys at the toy library to suit children at different developmental stages and choosing a different item each visit gives each child the variety that he/she couldn’t get bored of. Parents also have the opportunity to choose particular items (e.g. big ticketed items) for trial at home to see if their children really like them before deciding to buy. This way, if an item is not popular, it can be returned to the library and no one will have to regret buying the item in the first place. Imagine the $$ saved. For parents who do not live in ‘mansions’ sitting on large blocks, there will always be ample space for the children to use different items without having to worry too much about (long term) storage.

Now, many parents are very concerned about germs and infections. Imagine a baby putting a toy that you borrowed from the toy library into his/her mouth. Please don’t put off joining a toy library by what you just read. I have been told that members are supposed to clean each item before returning them. I have also been told that volunteers keep the toys clean. If parents are still worried they can be triply sure by disinfecting the items they have borrowed once they get home. Just be mindful that the little ones do not begin playing with the chemicals (Spray & Wipe, Domestos, PineOCleen) while you are concentrating on the cleaning.

I always suggest toy libraries to the families that I work for. A few parents are put off by the idea because members (parents) are expected to volunteer to help run the library. Some parents I know have heavy work schedules on weekdays and would dearly wish to stay at home or go to the country on their weekend so as to spend quality time with the children. Volunteering a few hours shouldn’t be a problem to SAHMs or mums who work part-time. One parent I know used to hand her kids over to her husband one Saturday each month to man the toy library with another member. I praised her for that arrangement because the children got to spend time with Dad alone. He would buckle the children into the pusher made for jogging and take them for a run, or buckle them into a ‘trailer’ attached to his bike for an outing. I think even dads can volunteer at the toy libraries. They come in handy to help move the big toys. For anyone in the local community who is good at fixing things, I was told that toy libraries gladly welcome their help to fix broken toys.

Gift Giving Policy

I always celebrate my Christmases by giving. December is a time of giving and receiving. I give to the less fortunate and yes there are people out there less fortunate than a nanny. Like the average person, I also give to family and friends. For the young charges that I look after, they too are like many children around the world, hoping and wishing for a little surprise and I try not to disappoint them.

What can a nanny afford to give? I may not be able to afford electric ride-on Ferraris, German Steiff bears or Gotz dolls, iPods, French outfits or fully equipped cubby houses, but I usually try to plan ahead to give all my current charges something appropriate for their development. For Christmas, I usually start to observe what the children are into around November to decide what to give. The same rule is applied for their birthdays. I start to look out for any new interests emerging about a month or so before their birthdays. From my observations, I decide if a picture book or reference book would be appropriate. Books are always on the top of my list. Lego comes next. If I have the time, I might make the child something by hand. To children who are already receiving tonnes of other gifts, handmade gifts are welcomed. So far, I have not received a single complaint from those receiving something that I have made for them and children are known to give opinions. I have made and given capes (for dress ups), simple dresses, pyjamas, table mats (similar to one seen on Romper Room all those years ago) + matching napkins, bibs, aprons and simple hats for Summer.

The children are almost always appreciative. The older children (primary school ages) show their manners, thanking me nicely without being prompted. This includes the boys. Many of the children have never experienced receiving something that has been made especially for them. I will never forget the look of Michael’s eyes when he and his sister Annie each received a pair of handmade pyjamas for Christmas. He was 9 (nearly 10) at the time and was truly surprised that I know how to make pyjamas. To him, clothes were made in factories and sold in shops.

The adults are a different ball game. Most parents are appreciative, excluding the few rotten apples. From my experience some parents are taken by surprise that their children were in my thoughts and that I have gone out of my way to give them presents. A few of these parents were genuinely surprised and would rush about in the next few days to get me something in return, or planned to buy me something for my birthday. A few rotten apples however, would react as though I had inconvenienced them terribly by giving their children gifts. They thought that I expected them to reciprocate and that they had to include me onto their Christmas list or ‘to do’ list as well. These rotten apples tended also not to consider my existence on their birthday and Christmas cards lists either. It is not a nice feeling but I think this is OK. I enjoy giving the children gifts that I deem appropriate and see this as a way to show my appreciation to the families for giving me the opportunity to look after the children. If they chose not to reciprocate that is their choice. The idea is to give and receive graciously but not to expect to receive a gift simply because I have given them one.

What I do find offensive is when gifts are not received graciously. This happened a few years ago when I was still looking after Mathilde. This particular incident changed the way I see gift giving and has led to the implementation of my personal ‘Gift Policy’.

One Sunday, my friends and I went to MacDonald’s for lunch before going to a movie. A friend by the name of Matthew ordered a Happy Meal because he was on a ‘diet’ at the time. A Sesame Street figurine of Oscar the Grouch came with the meal. Mathew offered me the toy, suggesting that I should give it to one of the little charges of mine. I just took it without thinking much of it.

I was looking after Mathilde the next day. At the time she was still the only child. We did all the usual things, including going out for a walk twice that day and being spied on by the nosy neighbour. Just prior to serving her dinner I remembered the figurine and gave it to her. Even though she was only a toddler, I told her that a friend of mine got it but he did not want it, so she could have it. I didn’t think much about what I said. Neither did I pause to see if she understood what I said. Mathilde was two and was not capable of making complex sentences yet. The toy was forgotten after dinner.

When I arrived the day after, Mathilde’s mum requested to talk to me. She looked serious and I thought something bad had happened. She was ‘told’ that I had given Mathilde a toy. She queried about the toy and I told her the full story. There wasn’t much of a story. The toy was given to me to give to any one of my charges because the initial owner (Matthew) didn’t want it. It wasn’t an old dangerous toy. Unlike the typical Happy Meal toys this was pretty well made. It was too big to fit into her mouth and was therefore safe for her. It came in a little plastic bag (which I had discarded thoughtfully) and I had washed it with detergent before giving it to her. Mum wanted to know why I gave her a gift. There was no reason. It wasn’t her birthday and it wasn’t Christmas. I gave it to her without any reasons. I just did. Mum was not happy. She implied that I or the other person (Matthew) must have a reason. Despite my explanations, she asked again if Matthew gave the toy to Mathilde directly. I said no because Matthew couldn’t have possibly have visited without permission. I am too proud as a nanny to allow those sorts of mistakes. I tried to reassure her that I take my job seriously and had no intention to harm Mathilde in any way. Before ending the ‘conversation’, she explained that Mathilde has plenty of toys and does not need another one. She then picked up the figurine and placed it on the kitchen bench. It sat there for days before I threw it away on the Friday of that week and nothing was ever mentioned of it again.

Readers may wonder whether the mum refused the toy because it was another cheap licensed product. I don’t think that was a problem. At that time, Mathilde’s parents had just introduced the girl to children’s videos like Sesame Street, The Wiggles, Playschool, etc. This was part of her preparation to becoming a big sister. To many parents, TV shows, videos and DVDs are especially helpful when the nanny is not around.

I think the whole thing was blown way out of proportion by a little paranoia. Many parents these days are worried about abuse, abduction, germs and infection. Judging by what the media shows us everyday, every parent has a right to be worried. Mathilde’s mum was one of these parents. I myself may one day become a worried mum too. No one wants to see their precious little bundle suffering if it can be avoided. However, children suffer as well if parents become overly protective or suspicious. They may end up missing out on some important life experiences.

From this experience, I began to notify the parents every time I had a present to give for Christmas or a birthday. I even tell them what the item is before hand. After I left Mathilde’s family I made it a personal policy to let new parents know that I give my charges small presents for their birthdays and for Christmas. The two families that shared me after my work with Mathilde didn’t take much notice of what I told them but found it somewhat annoying that they had to get me something in return. Yes, they made it quite obvious. And no, they weren’t joking. The current families that I work for welcome my gifts to their girls. Like the English family that I first worked for, these two families are generous when it comes to selecting presents for me. I have also met other friendly and generous families that I babysit for. I haven’t been babysitting in recent years but most of the families that I used to babysit for (referring to those that I babysat for regularly) were happy to accept gifts and happy to reciprocate. Not all parents are fussy or overly worried; I however believe that it is best to be prepared by notifying them first than to be stung again.

Cold & Heartless

It is wonderful to experience rain again in Melbourne. It has been dry for such a long time that I was beginning to believe that Victoria may become a desert. The rain brought back some bad memories of a lousy day a few years ago when I was soaked on my way to work.

I was looking after Millie and Olivia in Toorak that day when I had to take the bus because the tram was usually jam packed on such a rainy day. Because the bus stop was further away from the children’s house, I had to walk a longer distance. I used to enjoy that walk on fine days because I got the chance to clear my thoughts before starting work. Unfortunately the rain was unusually heavy that day. It was virtually pouring down sideways at times. While I did have my umbrella with me (Mary Poppins always carry hers) it wasn’t providing enough coverage for me. By the time that I entered the house I was soaked from my knee down. I don’t think that Mary Poppin’s long coat would have given me any better coverage if I had been wearing it.

Alexandra was the first to notice my jeans. Naturally, she took it as her job to announce it to the whole house and made a mockery of me. I forgave this little cheeky one but the adults were also joining in as well. I was referred to as being ‘silly’ for getting so wet. The girls’ Mum was quick to declare that they couldn’t offer me anything to change into. The girls’ Dad suggested that I go home to get changed but offered no solutions as to what to do with Millie and baby Olivia if I went. It was still raining and if I left taking the public transport, I was bound to be just as wet on my way back. They weren’t prepared to pay for a taxi to take me home or bring me back. He left before the mum but just as he was leaving, I overheard him giving his wife the order that I shouldn’t be offered any towels because that’s how infection is passed on. Later when she was leaving to take Alexandra to the Kindergarten, the mum said nothing to me but Alexandra, who overheard the conversation, warned, “Do not use our towels. You are not allowed to. My daddy said that.” As usual, her mum didn’t want to start a ‘war’ with Alexandra at this time of the day because she would look terribly bad in front of the teachers and other parents if Alexandra arrived in a bad mood or was crying. On top of that, she was looking forward to a day doing her own things. She then told me, “We have recently given away all of our old towels.”

I wanted them to leave the house too. The house is really chaotic when everyone is home. The younger two are very peaceful children. They were in my care soon after birth and were very used to my calm routine. As soon as the door was shut, I took Millie with me to change Olivia before serving them breakfast. I didn’t start thinking about my wet jeans until I was half way through feeding Olivia. I tried to call home to see if anyone was around to deliver me another pair of jeans/pants. Unfortunately, no one was home. (Who would be at that time of the morning when the average person is likely to be out working?) I sat there wondering what I should do. Even though I was consciously aware that I only had a spare T-shirt and a pair of spare ‘undies’ carefully and discreetly packed in my backpack, I checked it twice just in case there was a pair of pants and a pair of socks. Once I settled the girls to play in the living room with the Plasma TV turned on to show Playschool (Yes, this is one of those households where TV must be turned on to pacify the children), I came back to the kitchen to clean up the mess left there by the adults from the previous night’s dinner. (Never assume that everyone living in Toorak keeps a live in cleaner/cook and never assume that adults in this part of Melbourne are capable of cleaning up after themselves.) I felt angry that they must really have thought that I was ‘germy’. If I was really so germy and dangerous to come into contact with, why did they hire me to look after their three precious little Aussiemites? And yes, they did give away some towels when they replenished the linen wardrobe with new fluffy towels a year or so before this. No, I didn’t dig in and help myself while no one was looking. After all, fine Egyptian cotton towels are not made for a lowly nanny.

I thought that I wasn’t at par with them because I was just a nanny. I didn’t expect them to apply the same treatment to a relative living in the neighbouring South Yarra. I was about to take the two younger girls out to the park one afternoon, when the girlfriend of the mum’s younger brother arrived to ask for some quick assistance. This younger brother is a plumber living with his girlfriend in South Yarra. I shall call him Fred here.

I heard that Fred was scheduled for a nose surgery. A few days later, he was discharged from the hospital and was driven home by his girlfriend. On the way home, he had a nose bleed all of a sudden. As they were driving past the house the girlfriend thought that they should ask for some old shirts and towels. She went to the door while he stayed in the car in lots of pain. She asked to speak to the children’s mum who wasn’t home. She started to walk in but I had to refuse entry right there. I didn’t mean to be rude but I had been told to refuse entry to anyone except for the children, their parents, and their paternal grandma; unless if I had been otherwise notified. She requested for any old shirts or towels/tea towels at the door. After experiencing the previous episode with the rainstorm, I thought I had better ask the mum first. I called her and told her what had happened. To my big surprise she told me to tell them that all of the old clothes and towels/tea towels had been given away. She told me that there wasn’t anything that fit Fred. I was also warned not to let the couple into the house to have a look around. I did just as I was told and passed on the message. The girlfriend then left looking like she was in shock. Later that day, the mum came home with Alexandra and asked me to tell her what had occurred again. After this she told me that I had done the right thing, as her husband’s clothes are very expensive.

Fred is not a stranger. He and his girlfriend occasionally looked after Alexandra before I began working for them. They were still looking after the girls every now and then whenever I was not available to work on the weekends. I have met him and had lots of conversations and he seems like a good bloke. If he or his girlfriend were not trusted to enter the home then, how come they were trusted to look after the girls?

The truth is that I was very tempted to at least give Fred’s girlfriend a clean tea-towel. I didn’t because I have my orders. How much is a tea towel? I am absolutely sure that they didn’t have Egyptian cotton tea towels. The ones they had were the usual ones that can be purchased from places like Big W or Kmart. Believe me; I have seen expensive napkins and tea towels at other work places. I felt sorry that Fred and his girlfriend were not offered any help when they clearly needed it. I also felt sorry that the children’s parents didn’t see the need to lend a helping hand when they were clearly capable of doing so.

Activity Packs

Once I get acquainted with the children that I work with, I begin to select activities that the children might enjoy when I am looking after them. This so called ‘activity pack’ that I put together for the children that I work with makes me look like a 21st century Mary Poppins clutching a big backpack. Observing the child/children carefully before making suitable decisions is a must. I have to factor in the amount of time available for this sort of activities because some families (probably slave masters in their previous life) jam up my hours with lots of ‘little’ chores to keep me on my feet. For households with multiple children of different ages, I have to restrict the number of ‘complicated’ projects and may sometimes plan activities by focussing on one child (in turns) while still catering to the whole group to participate in as well. I normally do not prepare any activities to take with me for children less than 18 months of age because they are too busy getting to know themselves and their own environment to be further overwhelmed by what I can introduce.

A typical ‘activity pack’ for someone Stella’s age (4) would include a couple of picture books and a game or a craft activity. While I have accumulated quite a big collection of picture books, art & craft stuff, games, toys and other educational products over the years, the activities I offer may be repeats. Most children do not mind ‘reading’ the same picture book over and over again. If a child likes a certain game or activity, he/she may ask for it again. With children older than 6/7, I would plan a more elaborate project to be carried out over a few days. This is usually a hit during winter holidays.

I also supplement my own collection by borrowing library books and making some of the games myself. While I enjoy doing this as a hobby, I can understand that not all nannies are willing to spend their time off visiting the library or searching the internet for ideas to make educational products. Also as nannies, we are aware that our pay will never match the $$$ our employers make. With bills to pay, I try to be frugal and invest in some useful items every now and then. As time goes by, my collection has grown and I have developed an eye in selecting quality and useful items for young children. Most of these things will never go to waste, as they will become extremely useful in my next big adventure.

Most parents are amazed to see the never ending number of activities I can offer their children. They see how the children enjoy themselves and may even begin to ask for tips so they too can plan for such activities when I am not there. Knowing that I am obviously on a tight budget, some parents would gladly supply basic items we need for the projects/activities. A few others are less appreciative. They tend to think that I should spend more time completing extra ‘little’ chores (that aren’t on my work description) while I look after the children so they don’t have to keep the cleaner and still enjoy a clean and tidy home. That’s seems to be pure exploitation but that’s a topic for another post.

Stella Didn’t Want A Nanny

Stella is a wonderful little girl (I say that a lot). She loves making things, cooking and going to the park with me. She likes to be read to and is always asking if I have anything in my bag for us to work together. Lately, she even took to calling me on the phone to remind me to bring a certain item. However, looking after Stella was not rosy from the start.

I have to honestly declare that at first, Stella really didn’t like me at all. She was extremely angry to have to be left with me and didn’t even speak to me for more than a month! She would always do as she was told, but would also spend the rest of the time doing her own thing, often ignoring me. She spoke only via her mum when she came home at the end of the day. Unlike other clingy children, Stella doesn’t cry much and she didn’t really react to situations like her peers would have by throwing tantrums. The experience was just different. She cried a little for her mum in the first week but on a few other occasions Stella cried only when she was taken by surprise, like the time when she fell off the swing accidentally. Despite falling on a soft landing, it seemed that she was more upset that it had happened so suddenly and unexpectedly.

So how did I as a nanny turn this situation around? I tried to engage her as much as I possibly could from day one. I didn’t see her as bad. She was just dealing with the situation her way and which was probably the only way that she knew how to deal with things at the time. I tried hard to show interest in her life and environment. I invited her to play games, read her books and asked her to show me her toys. I continued to talk to her and gradually the communication between us happened. At first, she would show me how a particular toy of hers worked. I would do most of the talking. Because I only looked after her for only a couple of days a week, I had to show her how our relationship continued even when I was not there. I tried to take a particular interest in what she had done on days when I wasn’t there. In our ‘one way’ conversations, I would also mention the things that we had done together. Then the silence eventually gave way to nods, gestures, more smiles and laughter.

About a month or so after I started, Stella discarded her temporary ‘shell’ and began to greet me when I arrived (without being prompted by anyone) and spoke to me in sentences. I mean very long sentences. This little girl is very advanced in her language use. I was very happy, her parents were even happier and I celebrated that by introducing my ‘life’ to her. This means that on the days that I worked, I would arrive with a carefully selected activity pack in my backpack for us to work on together. She always looked forward to it eagerly.

Stella turned 3 (in April) a few months after I started. She was finally allowed to start attending kindergarten. Most of the children in her class started at the beginning of the year and a couple of other children started just a few weeks before her. Stella was the youngest in her class and still is. By that time, I was really beginning to enjoy working with this intelligent little girl. Her parents arranged for her to attend the kindergarten for 3 sessions of 2 hour blocks per week before Stella officially started. I had to be with her because she was still considered as being ‘underage’. To my surprise, Stella put on her ‘shell’ again. She didn’t cling to me and she didn’t cry much. She didn’t speak to the other children and was rather frosty towards the teachers, including the super friendly specialist music teacher. This time she kept this up for nearly a term. She was however very intrigued by the amount of activities available for her to use and was expecting me to join her in almost every one of them. The adults (teachers and a few parents) who overheard our conversations came to tell me how well spoken she was. They told her parents as well. The teachers were wonderfully patient. They gave her the time to develop and just like my own experiences with this little girl, Stella discarded her shell about two weeks before the term break. Today, Stella is still the youngest in her group but does not let her young age fool anyone. She is considered very mature and a compassionate leader in the making. She participates well in circle time discussions, plays well with both boys and girls, and exhibits a warm and friendly side by welcoming and ‘taking care’ of the new girl in the class this term.

Stella and I made French Toast

Stella loves to cook. I think she loves spending time making things with me and looks forward to the days when I work. Her parents think so too. She borrowed a children’s recipe book from me last week. According to her parents, she spent days looking through it and discussed with her parents which recipe she would like to make with her mum, dad or me.

When Stella got up from a short nap this afternoon, she asked to make French toast. I wasn’t quite sure whether to allow her to or not, so we called her mum for permission first. She gave us the go ahead. This was not the first time that we had made French toast, although this time Stella did ‘most’ of the work. She washed her hands thoroughly (as told) and put on her special apron that I made her for last Christmas. She cracked the eggs like a professional and whisked them with some milk. After I cut the crusts off the bread, she helped to slice each one into triangles. The triangles didn’t look perfect but we didn’t mind a bit. She then dipped each triangle into the egg mixture before I placed it into the electric frypan. She had a go at flipping a triangle but was unsuccessful and gave up. I think she is still a little afraid of the heat. Stella had her toast with honey and I had mine just plain. She really is such a wonderful child. She even loaded the dishes and utensils into the dishwasher after the snack and wiped down the table while I was trying to clean the electric frypan. I didn’t even have to ask her to do all that.

For today’s cooking, I had the whole activity set up on Stella’s table in the kitchen. This allowed the little chef to participate more fully. (Note: I wouldn’t have set it up like so, if Stella was not mature enough for such an activity. Careful observations are required to judge the compatibility of activities for the child/children.) This in fact was the second time that we had cooked using the electric frypan on her table. Due to being constantly reminded that the stove or oven can be hot and is therefore dangerous, Stella is still a little wary of the electric frypan. I am sure she will be more comfortable in time to come. Stella’s mum received the electric frypan years ago, but since it was hardly ever used she wanted to give it away. She is very surprised at how useful we now find it.

Step Up Stools

When I typed the word ‘stools’, it was meant to refer to a piece of furniture and not poo. It does however go hand in hand with toilet training.

I would recommend introducing this handy piece of furniture soon after the child has begun walking steadily. As the child becomes more mobile, he/she is likely to experiment with different ways of becoming more independent. I would also recommend introducing the step up stool before the potty. This will enable the child to become familiar with one item at a time.

Initially have the stool placed near where you would normally change the child (e.g. the child’s bathroom or bedroom). Show him/her how he/she can sit on it to take off his own slippers and to undress him/herself. He/she may need help but think of the boost in confidence and the sense of accomplishment for the child to know that he/she is capable of taking his/her pants off before a nappy change. Learning to take his/her pants off by him/herself is one preparatory step towards learning to use the toilet independently.

Later, the stool can be used by the child to reach the taps to wash hands, brush teeth and brush hair.

From my own work experience, I have seen quite a few different types of stools. There’s the Baby Bjorn plastic step stool. This is a sturdy little stool that is popular among parents who would like to buy everything from this trusted Swedish label. Baby Bjorn makes potties and toilet trainer seats as well. (Yes, Baby Bjorn is the maker of that very famous and comfortable baby carrier.) For parents who are budget conscious, Ikea also sells non-slip plastic stools. I remember that they used to be made somewhere in Europe but I am not sure if they are still made there, since they have recently changed the colours. When I visited Ikea recently, I saw a taller plastic stool. I guess that they have two models to choose from now. There is also the option of buying a wooden one from a children’s boutique or from craft markets. The ones that I have seen are either plain (with a clear finish) to show off the natural wood, or painted with animals or fairies. I think these are more pricey and do not come with non-slip feet or non slip surface.

It is a good idea to buy multiple stools, one for the child’s bathroom, one for the child’s bedroom and one for the other bathroom or powder room near the living room or the child’s play area. Some parents purchase a wooden one for the child’s bedroom and use the plastic ones in the bathrooms.

Working for the wrong family/families

I do not want to whinge. Everyone who has ever worked have their own problems too. I don’t deny that. There are people out there who have experience working for really nasty employers. The following is my experience.

Personally, I think that the worst thing that can happen is if you choose the wrong family/families to work for. Many parents may think that they have the upper hand when hiring and firing a nanny, but they usually do not realise that a nanny may also be conducting their own discreet interview process in order to screen out unsuitable families during the initial interview. Since I have never been asked to work for a trial period, I tend to find it harder to screen the parents/family properly. This is especially so if the new family is not introduced by another family that I have already been working for.

Many parents must think that nannies are so poor and short on cash that they will take any job on offer. This is why I try hard to be ‘frugal’ so I do not end up in a desperate financial situation. And, just like selecting a new housemate, the parents present themselves wonderfully during the initial interview. They give you a feeling that theirs is a happy family. And YES, I have been sucked in twice!

I worked for two sisters caring for their daughters for 4 years. It was like my current job where I was shared between two different families in two different locations. The schedule was crazy! At first, I used to spend one day with one family and four days with another family. Then it changed to two days here and three days there. Three years into the job, I was offered the ‘ultimatum’ to pick one family because my ‘presence’ was causing friction between the two mums (sisters). I chose to work for the older sister, who had two daughters at the time. She offered me 4 full days per week. I told her on a Friday and two days later, the other sister was calling me in a bid to change my decision. By Monday, the older sister called to announce that she had found a nanny for her two girls and suggested that I stayed to work with the other sister. I had no other option but to continue to work for this younger sister. The schedule ranged from 4 – 5 full days per week, to as little as 1-2 half days. To make things worse, I was still expected to complete most of the things that I do in a normal week despite the shorter working hours and lesser number of days. The mum figured out that she can save $$ by offering less work while using the help of one of her younger unemployed sister to care for the kids for free. Talk about exploitation, even siblings were not overlooked. I have heaps of horrible stories to tell from working with these two families.

To all the nannies out there, it is important to be alert during interviews to pick the right ‘work environment’. A good match is not just a plus for the nanny, but the children will also be better cared for as well. Now that I have been bitten once, I am especially careful when I agree to be shared between two families. Luckily, the two families that are sharing me now have been great so far. I am better prepared and I made it clear to them from the beginning that I did not want a schedule that changes all the time. I also requested that in the event that one of the families’ circumstances changed, I should be given a genuine option and not left in limbo.

Being a Nanny

I am intending to also blog about what it is like to be a nanny in the 21st century Australia. These posts will be grouped under the new topic ‘Being a Nanny’. I will describe what it is like to be a nanny, including ‘sticky’ moments. I think I will also try to explain why I chose this job. I will try to offer suggestions but I certainly don’t think that I have all the answers. It would be great if those of you who read this blog are able to respond to my posts. Other nannies are especially welcomed as are parents. In fact, I don’t think I will exclude anyone’s comments unless of course the person is excessively offensive.

Neighbourhood Watch / Nanny Spying

I took a friend for a tram ride to St Kilda Beach a few weeks ago. We didn’t take the usual #16. Instead, we took the #112. This tram goes past a dreamy bayside suburb where I used to work. I worked for this family for three and a half years and two and a half of those years were spent in this suburb.

I was chatting happily to my friend on the tram when it paused at the stop where I used to get off. I noticed that an old lady was trying to get on and kept on talking. To my bad luck, the lady was the nosy neighbour of the family that I worked for. The tram was pretty empty and as she walked to a seat near us, she gave the two of us a long hard stare. I thought that she didn’t recognise me because it has been quite a few years since I have seen her. Unfortunately she did! After sitting down, she turned around to stare at me again and made a face like the way she used to whenever she saw me with the kids. She didn’t say a thing, but I didn’t expect a conversation because to people like her, I am just a lowly nanny. I thank God that she didn’t start ranting at me like the way she used to.

My friend is not a local. She was visiting Melbourne and was very curious to know why we were getting the stares. I explained everything to her after getting off the tram.

So, who is this lady? Why was she so ‘unhappy’ to see me? This old lady lives in a nicely refurbished house across from the family that I used to work for way back in the last century. (1990s) She really wasn’t that old, as I think that when the family first moved into this dreamy suburb, she was probably only in her early to mid 60’s. The funny thing is that I actually recognised her the first time when I saw her sweeping the front of her house. I even told the kids’ mum that this neighbour used to work at Flinders St Station. The kids’ mum was surprised that I already knew this fact. As a teenager I used to use the trains and at times needed directions. This old lady used to work in a booth offering information and maps. She was not even friendly then.

A couple of months after I started working in this suburb, I noticed a pattern. Every time I took Mathilde out for a walk to the beach or the playgrounds, she would be there. At the time, I had only Mathilde to look after as the other two children weren’t born yet. One may think that I was being paranoid. Mathilde’s front yard is walled in. I would take her to the front yard to play while I got the pram ready. She would stand near her little gate, staring at us as we walked past. One may urge me to give the lady a fair go because she probably would have liked to befriend me. Nah! Sorry, No! She never used to open her mouth at first, just plenty of stares. I have met many friendly older people who live close to the people that I have worked for. They either give me eye contact when they speak to me or they would just simply keep to themselves.

Just before Amelia was born, this neighbour took to writing on a note pad every time she saw me. It was beginning to make me feel extremely uncomfortable. I spoke to the mum and she said that I was taking things too seriously. A few weeks after Amelia was born, the old lady began to talk at me. Yes! Talk at me. She would order me not to drop the baby even though the baby was safely sleeping in the pram. She would threaten to tell the mum that the baby had been crying and she would enquire harshly if I had any children of my own, to be looking after other people’s kids. These questions were not meant to be answered. She would just walk away after mouthing them. I kept on working and chose to ignore her.

Up until the birth of Elliot, I was let into the house each day by the mum or the dad. I had the use of the house keys during the day but I was adamant that I did not want to be given keys to take home. Readers who are wary of nannies may agree that one should never trust a nanny to have her own key to the property. Mind you, I have worked for people who gladly have a new set of keys cut just for me. I used to decline them then and still decline them now. Except for when Elliot was born. His mum decided that I must take the key to let myself in. She didn’t like me to wait outside the wall as there is no shelter from the rain or sun. She wanted me to let myself in on some mornings when she had already gone out (e.g. to the doctors) and was not home in time to let me in. I gave in because she was pretty cranky after Elliot’s birth.

This key thing was a bad idea. One morning, I received a phone call from the mum telling me that she would be late and I should let myself in with the key. Reluctantly, I did as I was told. Within a minute after gaining entry into the house, the door bell rang and I went outside to have a look. I thought the mum must have parked her 4WD outside and didn’t bother to drive into the driveway (because the gate was faulty at times) and I was required to help her carry either Amelia or Elliot. I peeped through the gap along the side of the side door and to my horror, I saw the old lady from across the road standing on the other side of the door. I opened the door and before I greeted her, she enquired angrily, “What do you think you are doing? How dare you let yourself in? I am going to call the police.” Her left hand was clutching what looked like a cordless home phone (not a mobile phone, unless it was a mighty chunky one). Her husband was standing in front of their gate yelling at her to ask me to explain myself before calling the police. The kerfuffle alerted the attention of a few other neighbours on the street. I was standing there speechless. I didn’t feel any anger until later. The mum and her two tots (Mathilde was at the Kindergarten) came home just in time. She saw me standing in front of the opened side door and people in front of the house. She didn’t look happy. She asked me what the matter was and before I could answer the old lady began to tell the mum of how she saw me break into the house with a key. The mum was also told that she should not have ever trusted someone like me to look after her kids. The mum mumbled and asked, “Do you mind to not talk about her right now? She is standing right over there.” The old lady gave me a frosty look. The mum greeted the other neighbours as they began to go back to their own business. The tots began to cry. I was requested to unbuckle Amelia to take her into the house. On my way in, I overheard the mum telling the old lady that I was given my own key but I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation.

I became very angry on the way home that night. I was angry at myself for taking the offer of the key. I was angry because I was accused of breaking in. I began to seriously doubt the family for the first time. Was this a nosy neighbour? Did the family request for her help to spy on me? Was the mum suggesting a chat later when she asked the old lady, “Do you mind to not talk about her right now?” The mum went about the rest of the day without really addressing the incident. At the end of the day, she told me not to take the lady seriously. She did make a comment one day on the importance of having good neighbours for the security of the whole neighbourhood. So, were they all worried about my presence?

In the months after the third child was born, my relationship with the children’s mother crumbled. It was a difficult time to work because I was getting pressure inside as well as outside the house. I will describe what happened in the home in another post later. It took me a while to come to the realisation that I needed a break. I gave them a month’s notice and left soon after they found a nanny. The family offered to re-hire me but I declined each time. In the two years after I left, they called every time when they were in between nannies. She kept telling me that the kids missed me. I enjoy looking after Mathilde and Amelia but sadly, I didn’t get to spend much time with Elliot. He was still a young baby when I left.

Alexandra loves eating sticks but not lamb

This is not exactly a horrible story. It is actually quite funny. When I first started working for this family in Toorak, the eldest was one year old at the time. By the time I left, there were three girls, with another one on the way. The parents were hoping for a boy.

This story is about beautiful Alexandra. She was by then five years old. That year, Alexandra, who did two years of a 3 year old kindergarten programme, was finally allowed to advance to the four year old kinder programme. She is not delayed or disabled but is just a little more active than other kids. She is one of those children that I refer to as ‘Tricky Kids’. Alexandra can be sweet and kind one minute, and wreak havoc the next.

One day, the kindergarten organized to visit a children’s farm and it was there that she saw her first real life lamb. She told me excitedly how she had cuddled a lamb and a hen. She had a good outing and didn’t get into any trouble at all. I remembered how I had to virtually ‘disinfect’ her once she got home. Her father was absolutely against the idea of her going to such a ‘dirty’ place and called me twice on that day to make sure that she stayed clean.

Before dinner was served, Alexandra played well with her two little sisters. I thought to myself that this outing was good because if she had been all ‘cooped up’ at the kindergarten all day, she would have been horrible to the two little ones. I enjoyed the peace, keeping an eye on them while I quickly steamed vegetables and grilled lamb chops for dinner. Just before I announced that dinner was ready, Alexandra popped her head in the kitchen to ask what’s for dinner. I told her that it was her favourite. She smiled happily and asked, “What is it? What is it?” So, I told her that it was lamb chops and steamed vegetables. She walked away while I continued to set the table and get the highchair ready.

Next, I heard all three girls crying. The two younger girls were huddling together in one corner crying while staring at Alexandra, who was also crying on the couch. I enquired about what was wrong, and she began to call me names and announced that she was not having dinner. This went on for at least 15 minutes. I am sure that the younger girls didn’t even know why they were crying. Eventually, Millie walked over to her dinner and I carried Olivia to the highchair. As the two girls began to eat, I turned the attention to Alexandra. She just kept saying that she was not eating. While she has been known to be a little cheeky at times, Alexandra had hardly ever caused trouble during meal times. Not knowing that I was adding fuel to fire, I kept asking her to join us for some yummy lamb chops and broccoli (there were other vegetables but broccoli was a favourite).

Alexandra didn’t eat dinner that evening. The girls gathered in the living room to wait for their mum’s arrival. I was reminded by Alexandra all that time that I was in big trouble. When they heard their mum’s car on the driveway, the two younger girls started to walk excitedly towards the front door but Alexandra shoved them and put on a dramatic show, crying loudly. Olivia fell over and started to cry. Seeing that the others were crying, Millie began to sob too. Their mum arrived to see all three girls in tears. As usual, Alexandra was addressed first and then Olivia was given a cuddle. Millie? Who is Millie? LOL. She was always addressed last.

Mum was dragged to the kitchen to scrutinize the dinner I made. Pointing to the lamb chops, Alexandra asked mum to name it. Mum said, “Lamb chops, dear.” Alexandra shouted, “No! That is not a lamb. I don’t eat lamb.” Mum tried to change the topic of conversation because she would like me to be out of the house. She was tired after a day of ‘running around’ and would like to go about putting the girls to bed before their dad’s arrival. She said she will try to give Alexandra some dinner and I left.

Next day, the girls’ dad was still at home when I turned up. He is a ‘busy man’ who spends little time with the girls. I used to talk to him on the phone to give him ‘updates’. In front of the girls, I was told in a stern voice that I served ‘sticks’ for dinner last night, not lamb chops. As he turned around, he gave me a wink. Alexandra then said to me, “See, I told you those were sticks, not lamb chops.” I stood there wondering what the big deal was. Alexandra knew that those were lamb chops. She loved eating them. As I went about getting the two younger girls ready for the day, I thought that she must have come to full realisation during the excursion that lamb chops actually came from real lambs. Her parents chose to play along with her rather than to explain that people eat food from both plants and animals.

For peace, I was requested to play along as well. For a couple of months after the incident Alexandra would wave her lamb chop at me every week when that was on the menu, reminding me that I had made a mistake when I called it a lamb chop.

It didn’t end there. By the time I left the household for the job that I now have, Alexandra had managed to change the names of quite a few foods. Couscous = yellow rice. Rice = pebbles. Chicken = sticks (also). Pork remains to be pork and beef remains beef. I forced myself not to explain that pork is actually a meat product from a pig just so everyone could have peace. Her kindergarten teacher asked me if I served sticks and pebbles for dinner once. The funny thing is that the teacher seemed rather serious at the time. Sadly, the younger girls picked up the new vocabulary and used it in their conversation. The parents used to fear a great deal that Alexandra may be bullied at the ‘big school’ (primary school) the following year but with a vocabulary like this, she could well be singled out.

Is it really so painful for a child to learn that the meat products they eat are from animals? Is it absolutely necessary to play along with them rather than to tell them the truth?

Horrible True Stories

Horrible True Stories is a section on this blog where I post about some of the nasty experiences that I have encountered in my work as a nanny. I will try not to judge the adults/parents. They probably make mistakes because they were ill-informed. Who doesn’t make mistakes? I certainly do! Sometimes, depending on the angle, the mistakes seem quite cruel. People may ask as to why I never step in to rectify a problem but when I do try what I can do is pretty limited. I will explain this more fully in another post soon.

The names of people in these stories have been changed to give everyone privacy.

Timothy Hay is available at Highpoint

It is extremely hard to find Timothy Hay in Melbourne, Victoria. I found them the first time at the Pets Paradise store at Melbourne Central. My guinea pig loves Timothy Hay but after that first time, I encountered great difficulty buying another pack. The shop gave me a few different stories as to why it is no longer stocked. They promised a couple of times that the hay will be in stock again and was told to come back but annoyingly, the hay was never there each time. I rang a few pet shops asking for it and most do not even know what I am talking about. Just when I was about to give up on finding any, I found them at the Pets Paradise store at Highpoint last year. The supply is not constant. There was a period of time when they didn’t have any. I was there just yesterday and they have some again.

I give my guinea pig a handful or two of Timothy hay every second day. It is very good for his digestion.

Highpoint is a friendly place to shop

I don’t live anywhere near Highpoint but I do go up there at least 2-3 times a year. I love shopping there and I find the service friendlier than other shopping centres. I have friends who wouldn’t be seen dead at Highpoint simply because it is located in the ‘Western Suburbs’. As for people that I work for, I think most wouldn’t have a clue that it exists. LOL.

Highpoint has all the shops that I want to look into. I love it how the employees in many of the shops are happy to serve me. In comparison to other shopping centres, the employees in many shops are happy to serve me. And, I am not even comparing Highpoint to other top end shopping centres. If some people think that Highpoint is for the ‘working class’ (which I don’t), I have been to other shopping centres (deemed by some to be) servicing the ‘working class’ that have lousy service.

The truth is that regardless of where I shop, the variety of products available in Melbourne/Australia are pretty much the same. I went to Highpoint about a month ago and on the very day that I was there, iPods were on sale at the Target store there. I thought the discount was pretty good and bought one. Yes, even an old fashion nanny like me is getting an iPod. The ladies who served me were genuinely friendly. They made the shopping experience all the more enjoyable. I could have bought it from the Target store in Melbourne CBD or some other shops that sell this gadget but I am sure I wouldn’t have been given friendly service. The Target store in Melbourne CBD is one of the most unfriendly shop I ever step foot in.

I was there at Highpoint again today. I popped in on my way to my friend’s home. Yes, I do have a friend who lives in Kensington. Not everyone can afford to live in the CBD or some other eastern or bayside suburbs. The service at Pumpkin Patch was brilliant. I bought a gift for my friend’s newborn.

I think I will continue to shop at Highpoint for a long time. I won’t be there again for a while. This poor nanny has to save some money. Come November, I will definitely be there again for the annual Christmas shopping.

My Favourite Things

My Favourite Things is a section in this blog where I post about products, services and places that I like. I am not paid to do so. I do it to share information with everyone who reads this blog. Please be aware that any opinions I have of a product, service or place come from my own personal experiences.

About being paid to post, I am actually thinking about setting one of those things up. I have read blogs where people are paid to post on various ‘topics’ (which are actually ads). I think that will be a neat way for me to make some $$$. Perhaps I should find out more before diving into it. If I do sign up, I will make it obvious which posts are paid posts.

Banana Split in Winter

I look after Stella on Wednesdays and Thursdays. When I turned up at her Kindergarten just after noon, her teacher told me that Stella would like to make me a Banana Split for lunch. I thought how wonderful that this child is thinking of me when she has just been spending a great morning with her peers and teachers.

Throughout the whole journey home, Stella was telling me the steps to making the banana split snack. This is what I taught her before Christmas and she has been having it and serving it to friends throughout Summer. I think she reminded me at least 3 times that she will be in charge of slicing up the banana. Stella is not very confident in splitting the banana into two, lengthwise. So, in her version of the Banana Split Ice-cream dessert, the banana is actually sliced. If the Ice-cream is not too hard, she is quite capable of serving up the whole thing by herself. She doen't know how to use an ice-cream scooper yet. So instead, she uses the standard dinner spoon. Of course it doesn't look professional like its from a proper ice-cream shop but she is only 4 years and 2 months old.

The funny thing is that I wasn't offered my ice-cream when we got home. She was almost asleep. So I let her have the nap first. This turn out to be great because I got the chance to thaw the ice-cream a little before she went about making me a big banana split with chocolate topping.