A very special weekend

Normally my weekends are free and I can do as I please. But within the lines of my official au pairing contract lies a clause that I will look after the girls for a few weekends over the course of the year. Last weekend was one such weekend, when S and D left for an extended weekend getaway to Vienna.

So basically, I got to sample the life of a single parent for four days. Some highlights:

The good

• Reading books and telling stories before bed time, and getting kisses (bisous) good night
  
• A late breakfast on Saturday morning: a stack of maple syrup-topped pancakes, and fresh squeezed orange juice

The not-so-good (So this is the nitty-gritty, down-and-dirty of being a nanny…)

• Wrestling with a three-year-old at seven o’clock in the morning while simultaneously trying to take off her pajamas and get her dressed into clothes appropriate for school, while she is meanwhile screaming bloody murder...

It really wasn’t that bad. The only really trying moment was a three-person tantrum session at the end of a school day that took place over the course of dinner. That is, I was the only one in the house NOT crying, even though I really sort of wanted to. Not that I blame the kids for it in the slightest:

The oldest had had a long day of school, followed by a string of various extracurricular activities, not getting home until 8:30 in the evening, and then had to face a pile of homework given by a mean teacher with exacting demands. The middle one was upset by some gossip and girl politics that had developed at school that day. Yes, preadolescent girls can be pretty cruel to each other. I’ll admit I had forgotten such dramas of elementary school!

And the little one was upset because I had made lasagna for dinner that night. The recipe called for some red pepper flakes, which weren’t in the pantry, so I unknowingly substituted a pinch of ground jalapeno pepper, thinking it would have the same gustatory effect. Turns out, it was much spicier than I had anticipated, so I was hearing a chorus of “Ca pique! Ca pique!” (That’s spicy!)

And to top it all off, the lasagna itself was way overcooked because I got distracted and completely forgot about it after I placed it in the oven.

Thankfully that was the worst of it. Granted, I was bone-tired at the end of weekend and struck by how I was constantly and continually obligated to the well-being and happiness of three other people. It definitely made me re-evaluate exactly what the role of a parent demands. It gave me new respect and empathy for my own parents, like how many times they had to tell me to put the dishes in the dishwasher. Now it makes a lot more sense.