I’m now, once again, on the last push before I leave London for the rest of the year.   I came here at the beginning of September with an original plan of staying 9 weeks, but was asked to extend it to 12 weeks.  When we are booked for these jobs, depending on the length of time, in the interview we discuss things that we hope to achieve.  I was always told to make no promises, but do the best we can, as sometimes we encounter things like reflux or a premature baby and then all plans go out of the window.  My main aim is to leave a confident and (hopefully) rested mummy.

When I leave, I like to leave a little gift to the baby and a thank you card to the parents.  Some MN’s don’t as, as they say “We are running a business” but I personally thing it’s not a bother.  I tend to do long bookings (2-3 months) and my thinking is that I have been a guest in someone’s house.

I like to buy books as gifts for the babies; you can never have too many books and I think it’s a good thing to help start a love of reading.

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A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies.  The man who never reads lives only one.” George RR Martin.

Rather nicely I’m with a family I was with 2 years ago and their first child is a sweetheart, so he shall have a little something too.

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So here I am, on my last full 24hr day and sitting in a cafe thinking about what words to write in the card and also thinking about coming home.  It can be difficult as I live between two worlds and I often think about people that work in the forces and their time away.   I worked with a lovely family in Torpoint many moons ago, as their nanny, and both parents were in the forces (Surgeon Commander and Major).  I can remember the father going away for a six month tour.  There is huge adjustment when it’s time to come back.  Weeks of being used to sleeping by yourself; only having to think about yourself on the time off; getting sleep back under control and “fitting” back in and equally there is adjustment for the people you have left behind that carry on life as normal without you being there.

The small one sleeps through, but that’s almost more tiring as I find myself contantly checking on him, even though he is fast asleep 😉 Last night, when I fed him at 10:15pm, I cuddled him that little bit longer (winding).  It’s hard not to get attached to these little bundles.  They’re lovely when they are newborn, but my favourite age is about 3 months, when they’re little people.  The smiles, the laughter, their personalities that are developing; their sleepy cuddles and their joy first thing in the morning when they wake and see you peeping over the cot.  I get asked a lot about how I feel when I leave and yes, it’s a bit of a wrench in that first five minutes, but ultimately, they aren’t mine and I love the feeling when I go, of leaving a happy family.  It’s a bit Mary Poppins of “my work here is done.”  (I blame my love for Julie Andrews for my choice of work).  And so tomorrow, I shall have my last cuddles, my last smiles, my last laughs and then jump on a train, heading back home to family life in Cornwall and preparation for the run up to the end of the year.   I’m not working until early January, so hopefully that’s enough time to see some of my favourite people, before I head back to the big smoke and do it all over again.  I love my job, but there are many sacrifices.

Practically Perfect People never permit sentiment to muddle their thinking

Practically Perfect People never permit sentiment to muddle their thinking

 

 

 

 

 

 

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