Tag: guest post

Post-holiday light blues

You’ve had two glorious, sun-soaked, weeks, lying in bed until 11am if you want, walking at your own pace, negotiating stairs without a pushchair, eating leisurely meals without having to give anyone else a taste, wearing clothes that would stain if even near playdough and going to the loo in peace…. and now you must go back to work.

You’ve had two glorious, sun-soaked, weeks, lying in bed until 11am if you want, walking at your own pace, negotiating stairs without a pushchair, eating leisurely meals without having to give anyone else a taste, wearing clothes that would stain if even near playdough and going to the loo in peace…. and now you must go back to work.

You’ve missed the little munchkins. You’ve found yourself singing ‘baa baa black sheep’ as you walk along, you can’t stand still (instead you bob and sway which is perfectly natural with a baby in your arms but makes you look a bit odd without one) and you’re constantly pointing out cows, birds and boats to your slightly bemused family and friends. But still it’s been holiday….and now you must go back to work.

Your charges have also been on holiday. They’ve missed their nanny, but they’ve had the undivided attention of their parents, and grandparents too, with  late nights and as much TV and ice cream as they want. It’s a shock to the system all round, compounded by the fact that you are supposed to be Nanny Sunshine while your bosses grouch off on their commute (or skip merrily out the door, pleased to be back in the office).

You unilaterally decide it’s going to be a bit of a lazy day, a slow breakfast, a trip to the park in the morning, a quick to prepare lunch (check the fridge in case there isn’t any food, revise plans for trip to the park and Tesco in the morning), make some cakes for tea and some holiday inspired artwork in afternoon. A quick smile as you compare your plans for the day with the equivalent that’s waiting for your boss, and most of your friends. You have no inbox full of urgent emails, just a full laundry basket, and no great crisis to deal with apart from the nap and/or potty-training regressions, but you’ll have them sorted in no time. You also get cake later.

Together you make exciting plans: swimming, seeing friends, measuring how tall the sunflowers have grown. You notice all the things they’ve learnt to do over the past fortnight, their new words, how tall they’ve grown. They tell you about their holiday, you tell them edited highlights of yours. They ask if they can come with you next year, you laugh. You go and swing, slide and scrabble in the sand. Somehow building a sandcastle is more satisfying in the park with children than it is on a beach without.

You chuck in a load of laundry when you get home and prepare bizarre sandwich fillings that seem more logical to you than some of the food you’ve tasted over the last couple of weeks. You wonder what the 3-year-old would have thought about the chicken and banana curry sandwich you tried and consider finding a recipe just to see, only to conclude you didn’t like it that much. After lunch it’s nap time, but you call it a siesta in an exaggerated Spanish accent to prolong the holiday mood and say you’ll make ‘sangria’ for their snack. Laundry out, laundry in, make list of jobs to do over the next week, look up new activities starting in September, put dinner on, finally succeed in drinking an entire cup of coffee.

The afternoon passes messily: flour, sugar, icing sugar, paint. Tidying up is a shock to the system but a quick bit of improv turns it into a game. You have a quick internal debate about the order of bath and dinner but as dinner involves tomato sauce you decide it’s better to do a quick wipe now and have a slightly sticky dinner than risk having to do bath twice.

You know why you’re lucky to be back at work at the end of the day, when your boss arrives grimy and tired to clean and happy children (and two leftover portions of spag bol because you were feeling generous) and your charges hug you goodbye, frantically reminding you that you promised they could go swimming tomorrow.

You have the best job in the world. You’re a nanny.

Nanny Share — the Affordable Childcare Solution

Carla Whiting outline the economical way to enjoy professional nanny services

 

Nanny share is a fantastic way to make childcare affordable. The advantage is that the cost of a nanny is shared between two families under one umbrella agreement. This agreement covers the nanny’s services, tax payable, food, vehicle insurance and other items, depending on the arrangement. Care of the children can take place in the home of one family, or be split between the two homes. There may also be cases where the nanny cares for different children on different days of the week.

Often nanny shares are found through local acquaintance. Alternatively, using an agency can access an established pool of resources. An agency can then organise a family introduction, help clarify the terms of an agreement and find a suitable nanny.

A shared nanny ¡s recruited by an agency in the normal way. The agency can pass the candidate’s details to both families and ensure that the nanny is happy with the share agreement. Some nannies will expect a slight increase in pay, depending on the arrangement that is made.

At Brilliant Nannies we want to help more parents enjoy the benefits of personal nanny care and the more families who register, the more nanny shares we can establish. Today, many families need more than care from 8am to 6.30pm. Work schedules are increasingly fluid and a nanny offers additional flexibility to accommodate this. Furthermore, you benefit from a playmate for your child, childcare in the home environment and a cost that’s within budget! What could be better?

 

Carla Whiting is founder and CEO at Brilliant Nannies, a nanny agency based in the Richmond Borough and servicing London, Middlesex, Surrey and Overseas. Brilliant Nannies are experienced at setting up nanny shares. For more information, visit www.brilliantnannies.co.uk

Kubb (Viking Chess)

I want to tell you all about a great game I discovered this summer. It’s great fun for adults and kids, very simple to play and you can play it almost anywhere there’s a patch of grass. My charges love the grisly origins of the game and it’s inspired us to learn about the Vikings.

 

The idea is simple. You throw sticks of wood at your opponents’ blocks of wood and try to knock them down so you can knock down the big block of wood – the king – in the middle. Originally the sticks of wood were leg bones and the blocks of wood were skulls, but don’t let that put you off! Each team starts with a line of 5 ‘skulls’ and 6 ‘bones’ and you have to throw your bones at your opponents skulls and try to knock them over. If you knock over a skull then next turn your opponents throw the skulls into your half and then have to knock all those skulls down before they can hit any skulls left on your line. Occasionally you knock over a skull on the line before you’ve knocked down the ones you’re supposed to have first but that’s okay because you have one more throw to get the remaining skull(s). If you don’t knock down all the skulls in the middle then on your opponents’ next go they can throw from any of the skulls left standing, which means they can be a lot closer to your line. When all the skulls on the line have been knocked down you can throw your bones at the king in the middle, which is bigger and heavier than the normal skulls, and try to knock it over. First to get all their opponents’ skulls and the king wins, but if you knock over the king before you’ve got all the other skulls you lose! There are a couple of other rules but that’s the basic idea, and games last between 15 minutes and an hour, depending on how good you are at aiming!

 

It’s a great game for improving throwing skills and you can adapt the size of the pitch to suit smaller players because it’s just marked out by pegs. Adults and older children can play on a full size pitch which is about 5 paces by 10 paces, but the exact size isn’t important. We’re playing with a 3 year old in tow so our pitch is about half the size. You only need 2 players but teams can be up to 6 on each side and we always attract a couple of children we’ve never met before each time we play it at the park.

 

The only downside to the game is that the wooden pieces are quite heavy to carry about, but don’t let that stop you trying this great game.

Sports day

Thank you, Louise for sending this to us. We’re delighted to share it.

It was my charge’s schools Sports Day today. I think times have changed and not necessarily for the better, and maybe you’ll agree, maybe you won’t but I’d like to share why I’m disappointed.

When I was younger our Sports Day was about friendly competition, about doing our best in races to go really fast and beat our friends. There were three races – the running race, the sack race and the egg and spoon race – for each and every year, with a long race and a short race for the older years, and no-one ever won all of them although we all tried. The best anyone managed was two and that was something to be marvelled at. Whoever was the winner won fair and square, no cheating allowed, and there were points for second and third place. We all tried our best to get points for our house. When you were in year 5 and 6 you got to go to the big athletics ground where we had Sports Day and try long jump, high jump, hurdles and very blunt javelin every fortnight in the summer term and there was a competition that everyone watched on the day itself.

Today there wasn’t a house system so there was no incentive to cheer on other classes. In fact I don’t think they were watching most of the time because each class was busy with their own event. It’s a shame that Sports Day is no longer a time for the whole school community to come together. Everyone got a prize for something, so the value of winning was lost, and the losers didn’t learn to lose gracefully or vow to do better next year because they got a medal for trying. I have nothing against trying but I worry about what children are learning when they get a medal for it!

There were so many events, some traditional and some not, and no consistency across the years, and that made me really think. We liked our simple races. The running races rewarded people who could run, but they often tried to go too fast in the egg and spoon. The sack race was down to luck on the day and not getting tangled in your sack and falling flat on your face. We were all desperate for it to be our turn to be in year 5 to do the Big Events and when we there we felt so special that it didn’t matter who won.

One thing I’m not sorry that they don’t have any more is the Parents Race. I think my charge would have made me run in it, and I like to think I would have lost with grace and shown her how to do that, but it was just too hot.