Those who grew up watching The Nanny might imagine that nannying is an easy job where one has all the free time in the world. In reality, you're taking care of someone else's kid, and that can be stressful and time-consuming. Not to mention that some strange characters in the family might make you feel uncomfortable at times.
The reality is that a nanny's job can be full of surprises and shocking twists. Perhaps knowing this, one person asked other nannies: "As a nanny, what is the most 'F-that' situation you've had in your career?" Professional caregivers from the old days and the current time shared their stories. From naked parents and witnessing very personal fights, these nannies and babysitters have seen it all.
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My first AND last nanny job I was 18, it was my first job as a nanny. I had lots of baby sitting experience and loved children. I saw an ad for a live in nanny for the summer on a local island. No I dont live anywhere warm so it wasnt a tropical paradise. This was in 1988 so looooooong time ago. I answered the ad and we negotiated a salary of 100$ a week plus room and board. Hey sounded good to me at 18, pocket money, food, rent AND not living at my parents for the summer. I only had to entertain a 3 year old for a few hours every day. Then I got there and got settled in. Found out REAL fast I was on call 24/7 for not just the little girl but for two older kids as well. One just a year younger than I was. That one actually tried to put the moves on me and got aggressive when I said HEY Im the nanny not the prostitute. That I actually had ZERO days off, not the two days a week that had been discusses. Oh and they now couldn't afford 100$ it was 50$ I said Uh not what we talked about I want to go home. HUGE problem with that. I was on an island, the only way OFF the island short of a medical emergency was a once a week ferry. I was stuck for at least a week. No motels on the island and even if there had been I had no money. I was also 18 and KNEW everything and didnt want to call my parents to help me figure this out. So I stayed and worked my a** off for that week. Ferry day rolled around and I had my duffle and my bike and I hit the road, tucked my tail between my legs and called my dad to come get me at the docks.
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I had a babysitting job years ago, when I was at university. There were four children, aged 1 to maybe 8–10 I think it was. The eldest boy was autistic, I was told if he misbehaves just lock him in his room. I just thought no way am I doing that. As soon as they left I let him out of his room. He was the loveliest boy, we had lots of great conversations about our favourite dinosaurs. And the 8 year old girl basically changed the one year old’s nappies for me, as I had only changed doll nappies before. I got the feeling she was like the surrogate mother after her parents had more children than they could handle. She was great with her autistic brother too.When I was about 15 I was asked to babysit for my neighbor’s two year old kid. I told them I would be glad to. Arrangements were made and later that week I walked over to their house to babysit. When I got there, they had another two year old for me to watch that I had never met before. The parents said they knew I wouldn’t mind watching two kids instead of just one, and even though I was shocked, I figured I would be getting double the money, so I agreed.
As my neighbors and their friends were leaving the friends turned to me and told me not to feed their child anything except for the saltine crackers they handed to me in a plastic bag. They said they would be back in three hours.
Five hours later both kids had had naps and been changed and I gave each child a cup of apple juice. They had eaten their snacks long ago and were both hungry. I waited for almost another hour before giving them both a cookie. They had been crying and those cookies shut them up.
I think it was almost seven hours before both sets of parents finally came back. My neighbors paid me but the other parents asked me if I had fed their child anything besides the crackers they gave me. I told them I gave them both a cup of apple juice and a cookie. The other parents swooped up their kid and their stuff and ran out the door screaming that I was trying to kill their kid.
I was totally confused. My neighbors explained that the other kid had diabetes and I shouldn’t have fed him anything. I asked, “ how was I supposed to know and why didn’t they tell me?” They said they thought I might not have been willing to babysit if I had known. I replied that I knew what kinds of food people with diabetes could eat because my own grandfather had it. I would have fed him something else.
Anyway, the other set of parents never did pay me. I refused to babysit for that neighbor anymore because of how they tricked me into watching a kid who could have died under my care. I was lucky that nothing bad happened but gee wiz, you’ve got to tell people about health issues like that.I was a nanny (age 19) for three little girls, two were in school, and one was at home. They were wonderful girls that never gave me any trouble. I cooked for them, cleaned the house, polished the silver, did laundry, and set up dinner for the family before the parents came home. I even sewed the girls matching dresses. I had been there almost a year when one night the mother came home and was so happy to see her youngest as she came through the door. She bent down with arms outstretched and called her to come to her. The little one ran and hid behind me, hung onto my leg, and wouldn’t go to her. I was horrified and felt so embarrassed for the mother. I soon gave my notice as I couldn’t bear to see that happen again. I found out later that the parents figured out a way for one to work at home (unheard of in those days) so a parent was always there. I was so glad. It was one of the reasons I found a way to stay at home when my children were small.I was nannying for a 12, 9, and 3 yo.
One time the eldest, a boy, said that he had his parents' permission to stay up late and watch a soccer game. I had been informed of no such thing, so at the child's insistance, I quickly called the parents to check, as the boy had a habit of not telling the truth.
Well when the parents came home the dad screamed at me for interrupting their date and for insinuating that their kid didn't tell the truth.
All could have been avoided had the parents simply informed, the adult in charge, of their permission.
I quit three weeks later. F that, I'm not here for you to scream at and power trip on.So i wasn’t a nanny, but I worked in early child care (6 mo- 5 years old). One day I was in the toddler room. There were 8 kids, the oldest being almost 2. There was one child who bonded with me immediately from the moment I started working in that room more often, he wasn’t super verbal yet (couldn’t say full words), but he would cry whenever I left, didn’t liked being changed by any of my coworkers, etc. As cute as he was, I knew that behavior was going to be problematic at home, so I had to be mindful of how much attention I gave him, making sure it was other staff changing him when I was in there, whatever. So this one particular day, his mom came to get him so I picked up him to give him a hug, he pointed at me, and said his first real word: “mama”. right in front of his real mother. I was so embarrassed and I could tell she felt awfulNot a nanny, but working in a daycare center. They broke the laws constantly leaving me alone with 10 to 12 toddlers. At nap time it was worse because I would have to watch them and the baby room. We had about six infants. I would come home so stressed I would cry. I left, and then I informed the city.In 2012 I was a nanny who focused on social needs children and got hired through a company who paired you with families. I got placed with a single mom of 2 kids. A 10 month old baby and an 8 year old nearly non verbal severely autistic boy.
Pay wasn't great, but not terrible. I was too be at the house before he got home from school to aid in getting him off the bus, get him fed, bathed and in bed. Due to his SN, he had severe issues with transitional changes. So getting him off the bus was a challenge. He was only 8 at the time, but he rivaled me in height and had the strength of a fully grown man.
What started a basic needs of taking care of him, evolved into taking care of the house, dishes, baby's stuff, moms laundry etc.
I worked with the boy as much as I could and he even learned some basic sign language! But his mother REFUSED to learn anything to even be able to communicate with her son for the first time.
To clock on through the agency, we were supposed to call them using a cell phone provided to the house, to be left at the house, for contact of emergencies and work. The mom decided it was better and cheaper for her to take this free cell phone and use out as he personal cell. So she had to clock me in and out.
Her insurance paid the agency who paid me. She was alloted 50 hours a week for in home care. She only needed me for about half that. She was paid by the company for the other half as she was deemed the “caregiver” to be paid for those hours.
She quickly discovered if she didn't clock me in, she would get the money the agency should have been paying me. It took two pay cycles, as I was certain it was just a glitch, but when they told me I was only clocking ~10 hours a week I was livid. I reported all the issues I was having with the family violating agency contract And the (not hers or the kids) prescription drugs I found in the sock drawer when she had me doing her laundry.
I hope the kids are doing okay, I worried about them every day after.I was a babysitter/caretaker for two rowdy little boys with a single dad.
They were difficult, to say the least. The eldest, Johnny* (5) had some serious anger issues which he took out on his 3-year-old little brother, Luke*.
It was a constant effort to try and get him to stop hitting his brother.
One day, after I had picked them up from school and was unpacking their bags from the boot of the car, I heard them fighting over something.
I was busy with their bags at that moment so I called over at them to behave themselves.
Suddenly I heard a thud, and then Luke let out a blood-curling scream.
I dropped the bags and ran over. Luke was clutching at his eye as blood streamed down his face.
He was crying hysterically, calling out “my eye! My eye!”
I scooped him up and ran into the house. I put him down on a chair and ran to the bathroom for toilet paper to stop the bleeding.
There was so much blood, it's almost hard to believe. On the floor. All over our clothes. On the furniture.
I calmed him down enough to get him to take his hand away from his eye so I could assess the damage. After I had wiped some of the blood away I could see that - thank heavens - there was no damage to his eye.
It was only a small, but deep cut on the side of his face, right next to his left eye.
I cleaned him up, disinfected the cut and let him pick a Star Wars band aid. I also gave him some juice so he could calm down.
Then I sent his elder brother to his room for 15 minutes as punishment.
What had happened was that Johnny had actually pushed Luke into the stairs leading up to the house whe they were fighting, so that Luke hit the sharp edge of the first stair with his face.
A little bit to the right, and he might have lost an eye.
Once Luke was calm and happy watching cartoons, I sent the dad a message about what had happened. I told him that there had been an accident and Luke was hurt, but it wasn't serious and he shouldn't worry. I just wanted him to know what was going on.
No reply.
He was someone who always answered my messages immediately, and if I didn't answer within 20 minutes, he would send a follow up message to check that I had read it.
So I knew he was ignoring the message.
During the rest of the 3 hours I got busy cleaning the house, mopping the floors and wiping down the furniture. I also had to change Lukas into clean clothes so I could hand-wash his blood-soaked hoody.
I didn't have an extra shirt with me, so my bloody shirt had to stay on.
The boys were pretty shaken up so the rest of the day went by calmly.
When the dad came home that night, 30 minutes late, first thing he saw was the blood stains on my shirt, then the band aid on Lukas’s face.
I then told him that there had been an accident and Lukas had gotten hurt.
The dad didn't even look a little upset. He didn't ask me about the blood. He simply lifted up the band aid, saw how small of a cut it was and said,
“Oh well! You know how kids are.”
I asked him if he had seen my message.
“Message? Oh, uhm, no. I didnt.”
It was an obvious lie. No one goes 3 hours without checking their messages.
I knew the dad was suffering from depression, but his level of indifference to his own child disturbed me, more so than the accident.
I went home, took a shower and cried.
To this day I still can't shake the image of all that blood, coming from the face of a sweet, innocent little 3-year-old as he cried his lungs out in panic.
To top everything, a day after I quit this job the dad threatened to sue me for “damages”, which I can only imagine refers to Lukas’s injury, as I never damaged or broke anything in their house.
I screenshot my message to him from that day to make sure there was proof of his negligence, just in case. Nothing ever came of it, but it was the cherry on top of a rather unpleasant cake.I used to be a nanny for my co-worker’s 7 and 3 year old girls, at the time I was also studying for nursing, anyways at the time I was looking after the girls, the parents warned me to keep an eye on the 3 year old because she likes to wonder off and into the street, long story short, wondering off was not her only issue, I caught her trying to eat the wall and whatever else she could wrap her mouth around. When her parents got home I was pulling her away from the table she was trying to chew on. I informed her parents that they should get her looked at because she’s showing signs of having pica (an eating disorder that makes you crave things that aren’t considered food) the parents yelled at and fired me for not feeding the kids, then turned around and tried to convince me to come back after their doctor officially diagnosed the 3 year old with pica after he caught her chewing on the cushion of the medical bed. I told them “F-that” and no longer speak to that coworker.As a nanny I have most definitely felt uncomfortable with a parent’s behavior.
One example is a time I was babysitting 2 children while their parents went for a weekend getaway in the mountains. I was supposed to leave Sunday after they returned home but when they didn't show, I began to worry. The children and I were fine of course, at this point I was 15 years old and had 4 years of babysitting experience with multiple children quite often. I was certified in CPR and knew how to provide basic first aid. After attempting to reach the parents all day, I finally gave up and just decided that I would stay for the additional time until their safe return to their children. I mean I couldn't just leave a 2year old and an 8 year old home alone by themselves to wait for their parents. The parents had never done anything like this before so I assumed something serious must've came up for them to not bother to reach out.
Monday morning rolls around and I am startled awake by a loud banging on the door. I open the door to find both parents falling forward at my feet and smelling of straight booze! I was extremely agitated and over it by this point. They were demanding I leave but there was no way in hell I was leaving two drunken adults who couldn't hardly take care of themselves be responsible for their children. If something were to happen, I would've never forgiven myself. I decided I was taking the day off from school against my mother's wishes & set out on a long day of trying to sober the parents up to be responsible adults, while simultaneously taking care of their children. The parents had never done this before so it was new behavior for me to witness from them.
After finally completing the task of playing “mom" to both kids and parents, I decided the parents were able to care for their own children and set out on my trek home.
About 10 minutes into my walk the father comes driving up onto the shoulder of the road telling me to “get in” & insisting he take me home. I was frustrated but gave in as I felt it's the least he could do for all the vomit I had to clean up from him and his wife, not to mention the fact they didn't have the money to pay me for the additional day I stayed. On the way home he began to slide his hand, he wasnt holding the steering wheel with, in between my legs. He was repeatedly telling me he was sorry & that he was trying to get away from his wife to come back home to me. TO ME?! I'm 15 years old, your children's nanny and a child myself! He didn't see me as a child, he saw me as a house wife for all the cooking cleaning and raising of his children that I had done their whole lives. I nonchalantly pulled my knees up to my chest & held them tighly together & wrapped my arms around them even tighter & interlaced my fingers. I begged him to stop as he slid his hand up my shorts. He persisted and began driving with his knees, fighting to keep ahold of me with his hands. I told him to look to his left & told him I thought I saw his wife. Soon as he looked to the left, I unbuckled my seatbelt & kicked him in the jaw. I told him to never touch me again, never contact me again and I jumped out of his moving Ford Ranger pickup truck.
I never told anyone that story as I was extremely too ashamed and embarrassed. I never again heard from either the mother or father and only saw the children, that I babysat for occasionally at the PTA meetings, which their mother attended. In hindsight, I wish I could have told his wife because Lord knows what kind of fabricated story he told her but whenever I would see her after that, she would quickly turn around and walk the other way to avoid me.
So yeah their behavior definitely made me uncomfortable.I was a nanny for a long time, so I have lots of stories, but this is the most recent.
In the six months after I graduated college, I nannied for a family with three girls. The job seemed too good to be true: $16 an hour, 38 hours a week, travel reimbursement… and things went okay for awhile. When I was hired the family did ask me to take care of some “light” daily household chores (even though they had a maid service) and I agreed. I was also asked to handle errands and help “manage” the home, which included supervising the maids, letting handymen into the home, signing for packages, etc. I would arrive at 10 AM each morning and handle household tasks until it was time to leave to pick up the youngest around 1 PM. I liked the job even though it was a lot of pressure - it kinda made me feel like I had a purpose. I loved those girls so much. Over time, though, the “light chores” turned into a lot more work. They would leave dirty dishes everywhere, messes on the floor - it went from general upkeep to a full-on house cleaning almost every day. One afternoon, after shuffling the kids from school to activities and back to their house and then making sure homework and baths were taken care of, I was stressed out of my mind. I was looking forward to going to my home, but, as always, I made sure everything was clean before the parents got home.
The next morning the house was an absolute wreck when I showed up and I lost it. Nobody was home, thankfully, and I dissolved into tears and kept crying while I cleaned everything up (this was a 4,000 square foot home on four acres of property - it was no small feat). I’d had enough, and I needed to say something. That night I left a very polite note - I seriously went out of my way to make sure it was submissive and gentle - asking that the family place the dishes in the sink when they were finished with dinner. That, I thought, would make me feel a little better.
I got a text the next morning an hour before work saying that my things (apron, snacks, water) and a severance check were in the outbox outside of the property and I was no longer needed. I didn’t even try to ask why. I got my stuff, left my keys, garage remote, and parking pass where they had left my things, and walked away. I haven’t heard from them since.I was interviewing to be a nanny to a medical needs young boy, maybe 3–5 years old (I originally wrote 2 but my memory is a little fuzzy and part of me is remembering him older). His mother was a bit immature but she was desperate because she was starting a job in a few days. The little boy was poorly behaved. At one point he physically took my face in his hands as I was trying to speak to his mother. She laughed it off and said it was normal and that I'd need to just let him do that without correcting him because any sort of discipline was the parents job. He had issues with his bowels that he was born with and I'd need to give him medicine multiple times a day while also keeping a close eye on him, his bowel movements, and become acquainted with all his doctors and healthcare providers. Near the end of the interview his mother told me it was good I was pretty because her husband said he wanted a hot nanny. I could have dealt with all of this except for the fact that what she was offering was way under minimum wage. I think it came out to about $2.75/hour. When I declined she went on a rage telling me she was desperate because her job was starting. I think I sidestepped a landmine. I have to add that I'm uncomfortable around men because of abuse I suffered through as a child. I'm also experienced taking care of kids with special medical needs. Making so far under minimum wage while dealing with those specific needs is degrading, especially if I wasn't even allowed to teach him how to respect people's bodies.I was 14. I was babysitting for the first time for an 8 yr old who was deaf, and had sufficient mental issues that his parents wouldn't leave him alone. He had a trick cigarette lighter that flamed 12 inches high. He was trying to set my hair on fire with it, laughing maniacally all the while.
Finally his father came home drunk at around midnight and grabbed me and tried to kiss me. I broke free and ran home about 3/4 of a mile.
I burst into my house and my father was very angry at me for walking home in the dark instead of waiting for the parent to give me a ride (the usual routine). He grounded me for a week for not waiting for a ride. I tried to explain, but didn't have the vocabulary to explain what had happened and was pretty incoherent. My father thought I was making excuses and doubled the punishment.
I never babysat again.I was a nanny many years ago in both Rome and Sweden for a couple of years. At the time I was a shy twenty year old.
The Italian family had three girls aged from about 5–13. I was very fond of the children. I worked mainly with the five year old as the older two usually had a lot of homework in the afternoons.
I had to share a bedroom with the five year old and a bathroom with the girls. I hadn’t been there long when the five year old (I’ll call her Angela) came running up to me and whispered, ‘Ava, I saw Daddy watching you in the shower!’
My blood went cold. The bathroom door lock didn’t work and I could only place all my clothes and bag against the door to keep it closed. Ava wasn’t a fanciful child. She’d never made up stories to me before. Her statement made me feel sick.
A few weeks later I was reading a bedtime story to Angela on her bed when her father approached us. He too sat on the bed next to us to listen to the story with Angela. He patted my arm gently as he sat there, and then my leg- almost as if it was done accidentally. It made me feel very uncomfortable.
One morning I made breakfast for the children while I was wearing my pyjamas and dressing gown. I waved goodbye to them as they ran to the bus and was just about to go to the bathroom to shower and change when I saw Alberto (the father).
It startled me as he was normally on his way to his job as a lawyer by that time. Weirdly, he was still in his dressing gown. Suddenly, he grabbed me and forced me into an embrace. I could smell his foetid breath as he tried to force me to kiss him. His dressing gown gaped open and it was obvious then that he wore nothing under it. Eww!!
‘Alberto!’ I protested in a shaky voice.‘You're a married man! What are you doing?’
He didn’t look concerned at all. Oh, Ava - you’re so naive! You don’t think my wife has a boyfriend too?’
I couldn’t have cared less if his bloody wife had a boyfriend or not. I pulled myself out of his arms, jumped into the elevator and pumped on adrenaline, I ran to a nearby shop - still in my pyjamas and dressing gown! The owner of the shop was so kind to me and offered to walk me back to the apartment. Alberto had gone.
Alberto was right in one sense. I was very naive - because I didn’t leave then. Stupidly, I thought it was my fault Alberto was carrying on as he was. I blamed myself.
He got the message though that I wasn’t interested after that incident. Every time his wife was out of earshot, he’d sneer at me, ‘So you’re a virgin, are you, Ava? A virgin!’ He’d roll his eyes. ‘Are you going to be a nun or something? You’re pathetic!’
His wife suddenly announced to me one day that she wanted to travel overseas and I had to stay home with Alberto and the three children for three weeks. The thought of that stressed me out so much that I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sleep worrying about it.
F that!!! I thought.
I gave two weeks notice. Alberto was so furious at me for leaving them ‘in the lurch’ that he threw a full carton of milk at me across the kitchen.
That job paid 25,000 lire a week- equal to about 20 Australian dollars at the time.
When my friends heard what Alberto had done, they came to the house, helped me pack - and phoned Alberto in his law office to say I was leaving immediately. He’d better pick his own kids up from school. When he angrily protested, they let him know in no uncertain times that they knew exactly what he’d done to me. He went silent.
I soon had a new job in the heart of Rome looking after a gorgeous little baby - for more than twice the wage I got at that first position.
I really missed little Angela though - and hated disappearing from her life so suddenly like that.My first Nanny job was when I was twenty-years-old. I worked for an Assistant District Attorney for Juvenile court. She had been in a car Accident when she was eighteen and was a quadriplegic.
She and her spouse would have big fights with all-out screaming, her running over his feet on purpose and her throwing things. This freaked me out as there was no way to escape it because I lived there.
When I could no longer handle it I gave my two-week notice. I had to go on vacation with them to a cabin outside of Bend, OR. It was tense.
When we got back the Dad was helping me haul my stuff upstairs and out to the car. She put her wheelchair at the top of the stairs and refused to let him help me.
My next Nanny job was for a newly widowed mother with a two-year-old boy, five-year-old girl, and ten-year-old boy.
When I was hired it was not clarified that my job was to Nanny the Mom as much as the kids.
I was young and going through severe panic attacks and depression that I was not yet being treated for. I had no skills to able to deal with her grief as well as the kids. I was making five meals a day ( breakfast for kids, breakfast/lunch for mom, lunch for kids, snacks and dinner, laundry, picking up kids, running errands for Mom and dealing with how angry she was at him for dying. Also, the kids would physically attack the previous Nannies. The kids were fine. It was the Mother's situation that I wasn't able to cope with.After college, I was a nanny; from 1996 - 1999, so 4 years. In that time I cared for Connor, Mon - Fri 3p - 1130p, and Sat - Sun 9am - 6pm. His parents were involved in a major church in the San Francisco area doing a lot of volunteer ministering, and though they didn't pay well, I was doing a service that I felt was more of a calling, and less of a “job”.
Because of my “job”, I gave up a lot of time with my own child, who at the time was only 4 years old. I was basically leaving my son with other people, such as babysitters and family, so that I could basically raise someone else's kid while they were off saving the downward trodden.
One day, my son wasn't feeling well. He wasn't sick, per se, but he needed to stay home with momma for the day. I called the mother of the child I was nannying for and said my son was staying home from daycare that day cuz he needed me, and I could either bring him with me, or I would need to call out for the day.
This was after me having been working for this lady for about 4 years, and never… I repeat, NEVER having called out once before, much less asking to bring my son for the day.
She acted like I was asking if I, and my entire Guatemalan family of 12 could move in to her home. She was so put out, she had the audacity to say that my son wasn't of the same caliber as her son, therefore (and this is verbatim) “it wouldn't be fair to my child if your son is there. You are paid to give my son attention.”
What the F did this Bit*% just say to me??? I was in utter shock for about 2 seconds. Then I said, “Well, my son is sick, so I'm staying home today. I'm so sorry. I'll let you know how he's doing tomorrow.”
I put in my 2 weeks notice about 18 days later. I found another job within a week, working less hours, and only 4 days a week, plus more pay and no children! And that was the beginning of my interest in using my degree in Business Management, and away from child care and diapers!!!YES! I was a nanny for two young boys for one summer when I was about 17. Their mom and stepdad both worked full time, and so I kept them from the time their parents left in the morning until they came home at night. The mom was pregnant with her first child with the stepdad, they had been married about 2 years or so.
The step dad was always really nice. But after a while he seemed too nice. He always complimented me on my hair or said I looked nice. He would make it a point to touch my arm or hand a couple times. He started coming home on his lunch breaks to spend time with us (though the mom was still at work and didn’t know). He would always sit right next to me, even when there were plenty of other places to sit. And he just gave me this really creepy vibe.
I remember the last day I worked there, he came home for lunch and sat right next to me on a little loveseat I had been sitting on when he came in. When he sat, he was angled a little bit to face me, and his knee was touching mine. He gave me lots of compliments, touched my arm several times, and kept looking at me in a very uncomfortable way. Up until this point, I had been trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I was done. Keep in mind he was 40-something and I was 17, and that his two young stepchildren were right there seeing how he was acting the whole time. The summer was over, but he had been asking me to keep nannying them when school started. I told him I wouldn’t be able to, and when I left that day I never came back.
Just a few months later he was divorced and got in trouble for stealing money from his job. All around not a great guy. I’ve seen him a few times since then in passing, but I always avoid him. Last time I saw him, I don’t think he recognized me, thankfully.Few years ago I was the care taker for 2 children. One 7 and the other 5. They were both somewhat decent kids but lacked good parents.
They lived in a $2M house (most expensive house in town at the time) went to private schools and got picked up in very expensive cars everyday. (Divorced parents, wife got very rich through the divorce)
The younger child was pretty well behaved. Me growing up in a very poor household was often shocked to see how other people lived.
The father was a successful business man which in turn gave him little time to be a dad.
The kids had little to no parenting but at the same time had unlimited money.
Couple years into my job I saw many actions that the children performed that you would not believe.
Finally the oldest brought a firearm to school, got sent off to boarding school, escaped and tried to break into a dollar store until the police came. He flew home and the father didn't care a single bit. I quit the next day.I was not a live-in nanny, just a full time babysitter going to the home of a wealthy single mother who only had one son. I was only 12 going on 13, did not know her before being hired, and this mother trusted me to live in her house all day with her 5 year old son when she went to work 8 to 5 five days a week. It was the summer and I was off school. I walked about 40 minutes each way to get to her house. I got paid next to nothing of course in cash, still being a child myself. I think the legal working age at that time was 14 years old. One day she gave me some money to take her son to the zoo by public transit. I bought him some kind of junk food treat - but at home he never had junk food, so this was a one time thing and I thought it was OK. Everything else went fine.
The mother went ballistic when I told her everything that happened and she fired me on the spot, gave me cash for how much I worked, and I never went back. After totally reaming me out, she said with a sneer “and you’re not even defending yourself!” Yeah - because I was terrified and immature and scared of contradicting an adult. I wasn’t the best babysitter or nanny, but I was only 13! What did she expect? Mary Poppins? I was immature, inexperienced and practically a child/crazy teenager myself and this is who you hire to take care of your child? Don’t be so cheap and hire an adult who is mature and responsible. That totally turned me off from any ambitions I may have had being a nanny or full time babysitter. Ugh.
Another babysitting story - I forget if this was the same summer when I was 12/13 or 13/14, but I got hired to be a full time babysitter for a married couple of 2 small toddlers. It was a lot more work than the other job because the toddlers made messes constantly all day long. Anyways - I kept getting calls once in a while - back then there was only landline phones and no way of screening calls. I would answer and this guy said he was a doctor and kept asking me creepy questions like if I wear a bra and what bra size I wear. I did wear a bra, was fully developed and looked like I was 20. Nothing bad ever happened, but that guy knew the phone number, knew I was at home alone with these kids, and got his jollies being a creep and pervert. I never told anyone because back then, you never asked for help or told anyone about getting harassed or bullied.
I babysat because it was one of the only ways to make money as a teenage girl and just about every dad I babysat for did something creepy and inappropriate with me and I was too young and scared to stand up for myself. As soon as I could earn money working for a proper employer legally, no more babysitting for me! I can’t believe how many parents would entrust me with their home and children being a young, clueless and sometimes irresponsible teenager - and just pay a buck or two an hour.I was not a nanny. Just 14 years old babysitting neighbours two kids, they were a handful. Something like 6 to 8 years old. Boy and a girl.
F-this, F-that and FU. Their parents didn’t care about their language and were as foul mouth as the kids, or even worse.
I made them a snack before bedtime and the oldest boy had a wonderful idea and took a knife and slashed me in stomach.
Superficial wound and I was just shocked.. that what provoked the attack.
I smack him in the side of the head and he fell, dropped the knife and I took all of them to their room.
I told that if I tell this to police you will be in jail. He went to bed instantly.
I really thought that F-this and almost left back home but my other cousin begged me to stay and not tell anyone since the situation in that house was shit to begin with. Some tissues and duck tape and I was ok but there was blood on my shirt, that was hard to explain.
The story came out anyway, since the boy had a bad conscience and confessed this even to his parents.
We were not in speaking terms afterwards. Even today. This is an old story. Almost 40 years ago.I don't like answering these sorts of questions based on the experience of others, but my sister had such a ridiculous experience with babysitting that I think it's worth sharing.
She used to babysit for the rich family, maybe 15 years ago. There were two young kids that she watched and initially it was just babysitting. After a while, the lady she worked for started expecting her to do more than just watching the kids. It started with straightening up the kids’ rooms, the helping with the laundry and occasionally vacuuming. The lady kept asking more and more of her, as if watching two young kids isn't work enough. This all bothered my sister, but she went along with it because the family paid a bit better than others she babysat for.
One night, after being asked to vacuum and dust the house, which already had my sister feeling irritated, the lady asked her to iron her kids’ pajamas. My sister laughed and asked if she was serious, to which the lady said yes. My sister refused, explaining that she was hired to watch the kids, not clean the house, and that ironing pajamas was just ridiculous. Well, that set the lady off, which turned into a brief argument during which my sister rightly quit.In high school I babysat, and children liked me, so I was asked to come back often. There was one family with a couple of little boys, nice kids, and the mother was friends of another family who had hired me, so it was a referral. It was just one time that I sat for them. The husband drove me home, and he had liquor on his breath. When he pulled up in my driveway, he leaned over to kiss me goodnight. I slipped out of the car before he connected and ran inside. I never agreed to sit for them again. I never told anyone or my parents either.I was 13 years old, had just started babysitting and it was 1968. I often babysat for the neighbors who lived 2 doors up from us. They had a 2 year old boy and 5 year old girl. Back in those days parents didn’t always leave phone numbers. We didn’t have 911. We called 7 digits for help. I put the 2 year old to bed. Since it was still light out, I went out in the yard and played some games with the 5 year old and some of the neighborhood kids. (This was back in the days of “Come home when the street lights come on”) I went in to check on the 2 year old every few minutes. The second time I went in to check on him he was lying still in his bed, eyes open, lethargic, and looked a little flushed. There was an opened package of band aids on the nightstand with some band aids out. Ok he was playing with band aids-not so strange. Then I took a closer look. There were open bottles of prescription drugs and pills on his nightstand. This was in the days before child proof caps became standard. Why are there pills there? That’s not a good idea. How did they get there? Did his parents leave them there? Did he go and get them? I shook him and shouted his name. He just stared blankly at me. I called my parents and they came immediately and rushed us all to the hospital. The sister said they were “cold pills” and “poison ivy pills.” They gave him syrup of ipecac and he vomited up a handful of pills. Meanwhile the parents arrived home and figured out where we were and rushed to the hospital. The little boy was going to be just fine. I didn’t want to accept payment but my father insisted I take it because I certainly earned it that night. Next time I babysat, they had attached a rope to his doorknob and tied it to another doorknob so he couldn’t escape as he kept leaving his room. Fire hazard people, but back then no one thought of that. The older sister said, “I hope he gets into the pills again and we get to go to the hospital because that was fun.” I wanted to smack her but I didn’t of course. That little girl was a hellion and used to spit in my face. I hated babysitting for them. They didn’t pay well and the mom had the worst gag worthy halitosis ever. I started turning down jobs from them and found better clients.I was babysitting a baby girl in 2009 (she's 16 now; I was doing 3 years of babysitting with her). I’m 15 years old girl, and it was my first job.
I put her to bed, read her a story, gave her a cuddle, then went down to watch a movie and ended up falling asleep on the couch in the living room.
I don't know how much later it was, but I woke up to something grabbing my ankle. My eyes shot open, and I shook my leg as hard as I could. Bad idea. She'd managed to unfasten her door, climb over two different baby gates and get down the stairs without doing herself an injury, all to ask me if I could read her another story.
We don't tell her mother about the time I almost dropkicked her daughter across the living room.My girlfriend worked for some time as a nanny for a rich family. It started out pretty weird from the very beginning, because these people wanted a nanny while on vacation. Apparently, taking care of their own kids was an absolute no-go during holidays. (The thought alone !)
They also insisted that my girlfriend sleep in, so that they could party till very late, and essentially ignore their children in the morning. (Who were these people ?)
One time, they invited a bunch of friends over for dinner — cooked by a caterer (making dinner yourself — the thought alone !) — and they had asked my girlfriend the day before to join them. But when the guests were there, she was kindly asked to go to the kitchen, and stay there.
She could have some food, but was not to mix with the upper class Übermenschen such as themselves. (The thought alone !)
At that point, while being locked up in the kitchen, she decided that she would not take this BS anymore, and that she would present them the biggest F-that thinkable in their uptight upper class Übermensch world —
Starting next morning, they would have to take care of their own children.
(The thought alone !)I once worked for a family that I felt hungry very often. I was shy when I first moved to the States and I didn’t feel comfortable asking my host family to buy more food or snacks for me and they felt like they didn’t need to. The host mother would always pay me late. They would go on trips on some weekends and only leave two slices of bread and a bit of milk in the fridge and take most of the food with them and I had no money to buy more things to eat as they paid me late. I would end up eating rammen noodles, ham and cheese sandwich (that was my lunch almost everyday) or whatever I could. I did not know how to cook well back in 2008 and I was also shy to cook in their place. It was a family that never made me feel comfortable in their place, they were very cheap and stingy people. Specially when it came to food. One time they took me to a drive-in to watch movies with them and their kids. After the movies they were talking about going to eat real food somewhere, the wife said “don’t forget we got one more mouth to feed” like I wasn’t even there or didn’t understand English. Maybe she knew I understood and wanted me to hear that. I have always felt like a burden in that family even though I used to eat very little back then and was shy most of the time. Being hungry most of the time with that family, getting paid late and having the host mother think I was supposed to work for her 24/7 was one of my worst experiences working as an au pair/babysitter for that family.I was tired of always smelling of onions, and my feet were tired of standing at a register all night. I decided to leave fast food and do something completely different.
I don’t know if they still do, but my local paper published a “Nanny Wanted” section in the classifieds. I found an ad that piqued my interest; it was a single father of two (Boy, 7 and Girl, 5) who needed someone from 7:30 am until 5 pm. It also said “good pay”. I called the number in the ad, spoke with the father, who asked me to come meet his kids and bring references. I admitted that I hadn’t nannied before, but that being 9 years older than my youngest brother, I had spent a lot of time learning how to take care of a child. I’d also been given the job of Nursery Caretaker at my church, which I did every Sunday night during prayer service. (I was paid, too, but barely enough to fill my gas tank.)
The dad asked me to bring a letter from the church pastor and a list of people/phone numbers who I’d babysat for while in high school. I got the necessary stuff together within a couple of days and then went to meet the kids.
It really couldn’t have gone better. Girl liked me immediately; she was outgoing and goofy. It took a while for Boy to be comfortable with me; he was shy and never seemed to have much to say. He played with Girl and I, though, bouncing a ball to us (Girl insisted on sitting on my lap on the sidewalk) and running to fetch it when Girl’s tosses went wildly out of control. I really liked both of them.
Dad saw the way we all interacted and offered me the job, contingent on his conversations with my references. He called me a day later and asked when I could start.
After my two weeks notice was up at my fast food job, I started on a Monday. Dad told me about his kids’ schedules (Boy, all day 2nd grade. Rides the bus. Girl, kindergarten, half-day, afternoons. She also rides the bus.) Once I had the basics regarding breakfasts, lunches, and after school snacks, Dad left for work and my short career as a nanny began.
I worked for Dad for five months before I’d finally had enough. He told me at the beginning that there might be nights when he needed to go out, and he wanted me to stay and watch the kids. He promised he would tell me at least a day ahead so I could be prepared.
This guy turned that into an expectation more than a request, and on more than one occasion, he failed to let me know ahead of time. The last straw for me was on a Monday evening. I had plans to have dinner with a friend I hadn’t seen in a couple years. Dad came home that evening and told me he’d be back around 9 pm. I was outside, monitoring the kids, and I couldn’t help it; I started to cry. I didn’t want to miss seeing my friend, and I was sick of him taking advantage by not giving me any warning. After I told him that, I said, “I really like your kids, but I need to quit.”
LSS, he tried to talk me out of it, and got me to agree to finish that week and then come the following week to watch the kids for the first week of Christmas break (Dad’s girlfriend would have them after that).
A couple of months later, I was back working fast food. He called me at home and practically begged me to babysit the kids the next night. I agreed because I needed the cash. When I got to their place, the lights were off and no one answered the door. I walked back to my car; just as I shut my door, Dad and kids roll in. I got out of the car to see what the deal was and Dad had the audacity to say, “Babysit? Tonight? No, I don’t think so.”
I said goodnight, walked back to my car, and never accepted a phone call from him again.Yes! I am answering anonymously just in case the slim chance that they would ever see… although if they did I guess they would know it was me anyways from the story…
I was working for a family who was very successful, the mother a doctor and a father who worked months out of the country. It was summer and I have been with them for about a year at this point, the youngest now being a year and a half and the oldest being 3 and a half. I started when they were 6 months and 2.5 years old.
I rarely saw the father as mentioned before that he worked out of country. I came to work and worked the entire day, it was around 2pm and little did I know that the dad was sleeping upstairs the entire time, he came out and then decided it was a great idea for us to all go out for an ice cream as it was a hot summer day. We then proceeded to go for an ice cream. There was no car seats for either children as they were in the mother’s car… The father told me that it would be okay because it was only a 10 minute drive each way. I did not feel comfortable as I once read most accidents happen within the first 20 minutes of leaving the house but again it was his children and his choice, not mine.. He told me it would be safer for his daughter to sit on my lap in the front seat so that she couldn’t move around the back as she was a toddler but then he allowed his 3.5 year old to not wear a seat belt either, and this made me very uncomfortable for both children and the entire situation of safety concerns.
We then get to the ice cream place and we all had an ice cream together, he insisted on buying me an ice cream cone as well which I thought was nice. The father ran into a friend and asked me to go find a seat for us and the kids. After I found a seat and we were all sitting eating ice cream together and he said it was his children’s first time having ice cream and was happy I could be there to experience it. I thought it was a bit odd, then the next thing I know that friend of the fathers that he ran into in the ice cream shop, came outside and said to the father wow your wife is so beautiful and so is your family! I was so confused as I was the nanny not the wife, then his friend walked away to his car. When I asked the father what his friend meant by me being the wife he proceeded to tell me that he did not hear that when I know that he did because he smiled and said “thanks man” .
I quit that job shortly after as the whole working relationship was not the same after and I was also making min wage, underpaid for a nanny caring for two toddlers plus cleaning etc and I was also offered a higher paying job with another family.
I only saw the family once after that, and it was awkward.I went to Canada to be a nanny for a family and it was a nightmare. Not only did I not know I needed a working visa as I was from the states and I was also like 17 I can't remember maybe 18 . So when I first got there they pulled me over, questioned me when I got off the plane told them why I was there and they stamped my passport and put a note in there because I wasn't supposed to work there. Anyways the family gets me and was like you weren't supposed to tell them you are working. (I had no idea) anyways it seemed fine the first few weeks. Light chores and things and lots of baby time. We'll eventually I was pretty much just a maid. Baby time got to be like 2hr a week and I spent my 8 hrs days cleaning EVERYTHING ! The husband didn't even rinse his sink out from his shavings that morning and toothpaste spit ?. They had a huge thanksgiving party one night and I went to guest house for the night , next morning they left their whole disaster for me to clean ! Leftover turkey left put, countertops icky , drinks and cups everywhere . It was so gross . There was also this time called “family time”. Sound cute and all oh I'm a part of the family now .. well after 5 I'm off work BUT since I'm “part of the family” haha work does not stop . I have to stay and help cook, clean up dinner, and have family time… we drove to the cabin some weekends and “family time” for me was spent cleaning their cabin ? no baby time for me because it was family time and the parents were there . So anyways I was supposed to stay a while I only lasted 3 months and told them to buy me a ticket early back home . Of course they gave me poop about that too, the mom was even crying, but I was fed up and done . Not to mention was only making $10 an hour to be a slave … never again .
