Tweet
Jeez, I don't know, the male kind?
I always joked that if I ever hired a nanny she would be matronly, preferably with a light moustache. She'd be a kind-hearted disciplinarian who'd cook hearty meals and have a bag of tricks for getting kids to eat their peas.
If a man could cheat on Sienna Miller with the nanny, what chance did I have?
Unfortunately, the search for my very own Mrs Doubtfire was fruitless. And with a job that has irregular hours and a husband who travels for business, I soon realised that a live-in au pair would be more suitable for our family.
Au pairs are typically young women (and some men) from Europe and America who come to Australia on a working holiday visa, combining six months of nanny work with travel around the country. They are given food, board and pocket money in exchange for childcare and light housework.
Almost immediately after starting our search we found Carolin*, a 19-year-old German. As she was already living in Sydney, we invited her over for lunch. Tall, blonde and slim, she should have been my worst nightmare. But we were struck by her maturity, sense of independence and genuine rapport with children. She moved in the next day.
I was expecting help with the school run - the spotless house I returned home to every day and the French braids she wrangled my daughter's hair in to every morning were the icing on the cake. I wondered how we'd ever managed without her.
And although she often walked around in 'short shorts' or sunbaked by the pool in a bikini, the idea that she was some kind of threat to my marriage was ludicrous. The relationship we had with her was more of a young niece come to stay. We advised her to wear sunscreen before she went to the beach, told her about rips in the surf, and urged her to call us if she was ever stranded at night without a way to get home. It was sort of like practice for having a teenager. In turn she taught us about her home country and cooked us strangely delicious German puddings from packets sent over by her mother.
As rumours about Ben Affleck cheating with the family nanny continue to surface, I have to wonder what kind of man would view a woman half his age – and the carer of his children – as the appropriate target of his lust.
Carolin is now heading up the east coast with two friends in a old, spraypainted van. After an emotional farewell outside the school gate, we stay in touch by SMS and the children beg to Skype her.
I've realised that I need a young person in the role to play endless games of soccer with my son and pretend to care about Shopkins and Barbies with my daughter, so now we have another pretty 19-year-old in the spare room. Sometimes I even go out for the night, leaving my husband (gasp!) alone with her and the kids. And while I acknowledge that a Hollywood superstar might be a slightly bigger drawcard for a young woman than a 40-something suburban dad, I can't for one second imagine him sidling up to a teenager from Norway and trying it on. If he did, I'd be better off without him.
As for her, she can stay – as long as the braids are even and the dishes are done.
*Name changed for privacy
If a man could cheat on Sienna Miller with the nanny, what chance did I have?
Unfortunately, the search for my very own Mrs Doubtfire was fruitless. And with a job that has irregular hours and a husband who travels for business, I soon realised that a live-in au pair would be more suitable for our family.
Au pairs are typically young women (and some men) from Europe and America who come to Australia on a working holiday visa, combining six months of nanny work with travel around the country. They are given food, board and pocket money in exchange for childcare and light housework.
Almost immediately after starting our search we found Carolin*, a 19-year-old German. As she was already living in Sydney, we invited her over for lunch. Tall, blonde and slim, she should have been my worst nightmare. But we were struck by her maturity, sense of independence and genuine rapport with children. She moved in the next day.
I was expecting help with the school run - the spotless house I returned home to every day and the French braids she wrangled my daughter's hair in to every morning were the icing on the cake. I wondered how we'd ever managed without her.
And although she often walked around in 'short shorts' or sunbaked by the pool in a bikini, the idea that she was some kind of threat to my marriage was ludicrous. The relationship we had with her was more of a young niece come to stay. We advised her to wear sunscreen before she went to the beach, told her about rips in the surf, and urged her to call us if she was ever stranded at night without a way to get home. It was sort of like practice for having a teenager. In turn she taught us about her home country and cooked us strangely delicious German puddings from packets sent over by her mother.
As rumours about Ben Affleck cheating with the family nanny continue to surface, I have to wonder what kind of man would view a woman half his age – and the carer of his children – as the appropriate target of his lust.
Carolin is now heading up the east coast with two friends in a old, spraypainted van. After an emotional farewell outside the school gate, we stay in touch by SMS and the children beg to Skype her.
I've realised that I need a young person in the role to play endless games of soccer with my son and pretend to care about Shopkins and Barbies with my daughter, so now we have another pretty 19-year-old in the spare room. Sometimes I even go out for the night, leaving my husband (gasp!) alone with her and the kids. And while I acknowledge that a Hollywood superstar might be a slightly bigger drawcard for a young woman than a 40-something suburban dad, I can't for one second imagine him sidling up to a teenager from Norway and trying it on. If he did, I'd be better off without him.
As for her, she can stay – as long as the braids are even and the dishes are done.
*Name changed for privacy
Comment