If i’m asked if i’m in the ‘babysitting market’ one more time, I might end it all.
Kids? Do we love them? Do we treasure them? Or are they just a massive inconvenience to us all? For those of us lucky few who still manage to call our children ‘darling Doris’ chances are we are part of the minority financially able enough to ship them off to the nannies. Through this we partake only in semi-neglectful behaviour comparatively to its older cousin, the boarding school; so, we can still rest assured in the belief that we are still amazing parents who do indeed love our children dearly. The heralding of the nannies is an age-old technique extensively documented throughout history with which the public has all had a kind of mild fascination with. Beginning with childminding in Ancient Rome, which you may be surprised to note was considered a male’s job; fast-forwarding to the Victorian era and with it enters: the esteemed governess. The intrigue surrounding her is rampant, she prompts literature such as Jane Eyre, The Turn of the Screw and many more tales, tales we all still enjoy to this day. Ending with the modern-day Norland nanny and the questions that inevitably surround her; how much does she actually get paid and does she always wear that silly uniform?
As millennials clamour to the city to get that yuppy wage, the middle classes widen and the working hours lengthen, meaning inevitably less and less time is being spent with children. As the demand for childcare grows these conditions become the breeding ground, ushering in the ‘nouveau yummy mummy’.
Don’t be fooled by her name, much like her older, richer and somewhat chicer counterpart, the yummy mummy, the nouveau yummy mummy is ferocious. She uses her lululemon leggings, leather Esplar Vejas, and Cos floor length puffer-coat to mask her belligerent aura. There is only one thing on her mind on Tuesday at quarter-past three when she enters the playground to pick up her darling Doris (who has not been such a darling to her classmates but she’s really been having such an awful time recently what with her dad being at a tech conference in Miami these past three weeks) and that is networking. She needs to secure Doris’s spot in Ottolie’s nanny’s car to take them to after school dance; Ottolie’s nanny is going that way anyway surely, it’s no inconvenience at all? Disaster strikes: Ottolie is not going to dance this week. Our mummy is not perturbed in the slightest, she is experienced in such matters, and has not been raised to ever take no as a hard no. She has been waiting for the right moment to speak to Jake’s nanny, and today seems to be the lucky day. Jake’s football is just across the road from dance; Jake’s nanny is going that way anyway surely, it’s no inconvenience at all? Oh-no! Lightning strikes the same spot twice. Jake has a dentist appointment today, we’re so sorry, we’d be happy to take Doris next week. Although the offer will definitely be taken up that does not solve the imminent problem. Our mummy has to pull out her final straws, in-person networking has not provided the results she was hoping for, so she must take unavoidable next step, take this online. She texts the mummy group chat, someone must be available, she herself has a very important meeting she can’t miss you see but little Doris has been so looking forward to dance all week. Result! India’s mum will be driving India to dance, she’s going that way anyway so, It’s no inconvenience at all!
That evening Doris’s mum reflects, she wants to make sure that this doesn’t happen again. She gets her phone out and opens her Nextdoor app, she posts that she is looking for afterschool care for Tuesday and waits to see the response. She wakes up the next day to see her comments section flooded with eager nannies all vying for the position, but who are these eager nannies?
The nanny is fierce, she is competitive, she models herself on the mother’s she serves. She too, is a master of networking; making sure to keep her toolkit expertly stocked with many techniques to ensure her position is always protected. These include inducing dependency by promoting needy behaviour, particularly targeting younger children, which in turn also secures our nanny an exclusive babysitting spot as these poor babies just cry so much with anyone else! Profusely complaining about older children’s behaviour, so that the emotional turbulence of a nine-year-old seems like a colossal problem, a problem that it seems only our nanny manages to contain.
The playground is our nanny’s natural breeding ground. She expertly weaves herself between teacher, mum and nanny alike; a testimony to her boundless emotional intelligence. Her conversation style is varied, all of it will of course be composed mostly of complaints on the child she is bound to serve, but the execution will be slightly different every time. To teacher: her child has too much energy, to mum: her child did not do good listening today, to nanny: her child is just one massive inconvenience.
The question this all leads me to ask is: do we even want children anymore? We look to our friends, our neighbours, our parents, they all had kids; surely, it’s the natural next step? It’s intrinsic to be influenced by our community and yet what the community fails to mention is that ‘darling Doris’ has everything at her disposal, bar mum and dad.