The Life of an Au-Pair-Part 1

I don't think you really can comprehend how your life is going to change when  pack your life into 2 suitcases and move in with a family in Alaska. There is honestly no way of wrapping our minds around this. So....I've been thinking a lot about how my life has changed...and what it means to be a live in au-pair. D was out of town for part of this week...so I was kinda a fill in Mom too...


(btw-I was again...too lazy/tired/sick..to do a proper job of scanning in the kids art..so you're gonna have to forgive the poor representation...oh and see if you can guess which one I drew...)

Mondays take on a whole new level of meaning....you have to get kids ready for the entire week in the span of a bleary eyed hour. The kids don't want to wake up. You don't want to be up. The dog is up. The parents are gone. Crap the parents are gone, you're in charge. 

Getting up now encompasses hitting the snooze button until you have about 12 minutes to get ready. Long undies under jeans, knee high men's wool socks, t-shirt, fleece jacket, check. Bed made. Done. Upstairs to "work."


You have to dress these little creatures. This is a challenge when your own wardrobe has practically stayed the same since high school. Does pink match with purple? Do leggings go under skirts? These are serious challenges in the morning. OK..now hair down...no it's far too frizzy for that and crap you've run out of de-tangling spray and the four year old is screaming bloody murder because the brush is stuck in her hair. Pony tail it is. Now the six year old has dressed herself in a navy sweater (no under shirt),black leggings and neon purple socks. It's not worth discussing that it doesn't coordinate and the inevitable discussion about why you should try and match when going out in public. It's just easier to let her be. She is dressed right? 

Breakfast. Fill em up with protein, limit the sugar rush and sneak in wholesomeness. Tell em that you're going to make the most delicious smoothie EVER. Don't let them find out that you've snuck vegetables in there...just water it down with OJ...PB toast for the thirteenth million day...I don't bother asking any more I just instinctively walk downstairs to the toaster. It's far to early for me to eat...my stomach rebels at the idea. Food before 10 a.m? Don't be crazy. Chocolate? YES PLEASE


Now you're rounding up bags, going through the day in your head, plotting out the who's whats where's and how's. 


It takes 15 minutes to warm up the car, de-ice and snow the machine. Plus it's pitch black outside. Plus I'm freezing. 

Commuting takes on a whole new meaning. You have to buckle these kiddos up like you're about to go on a roller coaster. They start complaining that they are are cold, I tell them I have an ice tush and they aren't allowed to whine. Giggles and the word butt ensue. You turn on the oldies and rock out like it's the greatest song ever and giggles commence in the back. Now you have two little drummers in the back. Fingers are tapping on the steering wheel. Woops moose. Keep your eyes scanning the horizons. Dang love songs...switch to NPR.


I can time where we are in terms of running behind based on NPR. If the writers almanac comes on before we hit the bridge road we're late. If my watch beeps the hour while we're crossing the bridge we're on time. This doesn't always happen despite my best efforts.

Drama in my life now includes being pissed off that swimming lessons have been cancelled three weeks in a row with no notification. Four year old throwing a tantrum over good news and deciding to sulk instead of bake. The rules of earning marbles for good behavior. Using a tortilla instead of bread for sandwich results in an uproar..how dare I. Pulling teeth with a six year old over reading in the library. Peas apparently are alien food. Chasing the dog around in circles because he's eating the girls favorite stuffed pony. 


I don't go out anymore. I cherish every waking moment of being alone in my room. I think about going out. Look at the thermometer and realize it's eighteen below and my pajamas are far more comforting.

The rules and boundaries of home and work are so blurred it's hard to know where one ends the other starts and whether or not you've just made a giant circle.


There are no longer sick days. You still have to get up, be with the kids for thirteen hours, suck it up and be sick later. Men are wusses about being sick. Seriously. The men I've known when they are sick are such namby pambys. I was gushing mucus, doubled over with stomach pain and my head was about to implode and I made it through thirteen very long kid hours. I made it through four days of being the woman in charge while being horribly sick.  

Your weekends are no longer the same. Friday night we ate dinner in a tent and baked cakes for the stuffed animals birthday. 


On my Saturday night I'm curled up on the couch with an adorable four year old watching cartoons, eating ice cream, coloring monsters and reading lots and lots of books. 


All I care about on my days "off" is sleeping past 7:30 a.m. It's hard wired in my D.N.A. to be a night owl. I'm a daddy's girl after all. 

So...I'm not the "social" kind of girl I was back home. I'm OK with that. I love spending time on my computer, practicing my guitar, reading, taking pictures and writing. It's a new chapter in my life.

I overheard some one say in the hallway the other day...living in Alaska is not for wimps...it's really hard out here.


So true.


Stay tuned for more!

(This is what I woke up to this morning! Yay all of you reading my drivel! This has to be a good sign right?!...not bad for 70 days of Alaska writing.)