Looking back - being an au-pair

I pulled up some old diaries from the basement tonight. I used to pour my heart out in them, write pages almost daily and recount everything with purposeful honesty. My journal entries now are sporadic, often months apart. With so much space between entries sometimes I don’t even know where to start. But when I read these old diaries, forgotten memories come back to me – tinted perhaps with humour or sadness through these lenses of time.

In an old black diary I rediscover that 13 years ago I was working as an au-pair in Bordeaux, France, completely overwhelmed by caring for two toddlers.

In my January 22, 1998 entry I write: “Tonight was absolutely horrible with the kids. As soon as I walked in Vincent [the older boy, around 2 ½ years] started screaming “vilian, vilian” and carried on for about 45 minutes – with both him and Camille [his younger sister, 16 months] screaming if I tried to do anything with them.” I even go on to complain that supper was a plate of cold tuna and corn salad – which apparently brought me close to tears.

It’s interesting to read how I struggled with the two kids, especially now that I am a mother. I knew almost nothing about childcare when I became an au-pair. I was thrown into a broken home with two children only about a year apart in age. The first few months were hell.
Of course, I learnt a ton. In caring for Miya I find myself still recalling things I learned there - like ways to keep on top of the day, to distract from and anticipate problems, to soothe and amuse little volatile beings.

It’s interesting also to see how much of what I wrote was about relationships - relationships which are now for the most part only a distant memory – or in some cases, completely forgotten. And yet, for a certain period of my life, I was absorbed in how I felt about them, wondering how they felt about me. “To be completely known and completely loved – is it too much to ask?” my 23-year old self asked so long ago. How would I answer her today?