Let me just begin by saying that if I was not already quitting for my new job, I would have been driven to quit today even if it had meant me being unemployed. Let's just say that things got a little Sid & Nancy today to say the least between Connor and I. If it was legal to hit kids, this would have been the instance where I'd done so.
I suppose I have not filled any of my readers in with what I am doing lately with my post-European life. Let me just say that the spark and excitement has completely extinguished and I have found myself caring for three children (Christopher age 5, Gracie age 7 and Connor age 9) five days a week. Thankfully, I am starting a new job on Tuesday, so I will no longer be pulling a Mary Poppins starting then.
Connor and I have butted heads since I began my position almost immediately upon my return from London, so about a month ago. However, things got really ugly today. Let me say that I pride myself on at least being civil with the children, and nice when they are nice to me. Today I was pushed to the breaking point.
I went to the bus stop to wait for Connor and Gracie, and once they arrived Gracie immediately began recounting her day to me. The gift of gab is strong in her, and I am often thankful for that as it means that I have to conjure up surprisingly little to talk about. Connor, however, was more silent than usual in that he completely ignored not only me when I asked about his day, but also ignored her sister. And she was asking him if he wanted the candy that she earned in class! Even I would be unable to ignore such a question!
After we arrived at the house, Connor laid on the couch and I asked him if he was alright, to which he responded with a nod. He then took his cell phone (yes, he seriously has one at his age) into his room and called one of his parents and began a twenty minute conversation during which he was bawling frantically. Once this unpleasantry ended, I went into his room only to inform him that we all had to leave to get his brother.
I was actually rather frightened by how I found him in his room. He was standing in his closet, arms folded, scowling at me with a demonic expression, tears flooding his bright-red cheeks. I informed him that I was sorry he was upset but that we had to get going, and he screamed "I HATE YOU!". I tried to keep calm but this was one of MANY unpleasant things that he has done to me in the past, and I remembered that Monday was my last day, so I told him in a stern voice that it was not okay to say that to someone and that I was not too fond of him either. The rest of the day I did not say a word to him. The one thing I was thankful for was that his sister told me that he says so to everyone, and that their last babysitter was "actually mean".
I love nannying.
I suppose I have not filled any of my readers in with what I am doing lately with my post-European life. Let me just say that the spark and excitement has completely extinguished and I have found myself caring for three children (Christopher age 5, Gracie age 7 and Connor age 9) five days a week. Thankfully, I am starting a new job on Tuesday, so I will no longer be pulling a Mary Poppins starting then.
Connor and I have butted heads since I began my position almost immediately upon my return from London, so about a month ago. However, things got really ugly today. Let me say that I pride myself on at least being civil with the children, and nice when they are nice to me. Today I was pushed to the breaking point.
I went to the bus stop to wait for Connor and Gracie, and once they arrived Gracie immediately began recounting her day to me. The gift of gab is strong in her, and I am often thankful for that as it means that I have to conjure up surprisingly little to talk about. Connor, however, was more silent than usual in that he completely ignored not only me when I asked about his day, but also ignored her sister. And she was asking him if he wanted the candy that she earned in class! Even I would be unable to ignore such a question!
After we arrived at the house, Connor laid on the couch and I asked him if he was alright, to which he responded with a nod. He then took his cell phone (yes, he seriously has one at his age) into his room and called one of his parents and began a twenty minute conversation during which he was bawling frantically. Once this unpleasantry ended, I went into his room only to inform him that we all had to leave to get his brother.
I was actually rather frightened by how I found him in his room. He was standing in his closet, arms folded, scowling at me with a demonic expression, tears flooding his bright-red cheeks. I informed him that I was sorry he was upset but that we had to get going, and he screamed "I HATE YOU!". I tried to keep calm but this was one of MANY unpleasant things that he has done to me in the past, and I remembered that Monday was my last day, so I told him in a stern voice that it was not okay to say that to someone and that I was not too fond of him either. The rest of the day I did not say a word to him. The one thing I was thankful for was that his sister told me that he says so to everyone, and that their last babysitter was "actually mean".
I love nannying.
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