The girls had a Christmas party at nursery a couple of weeks ago and the parents were allowed to attend, as long as we promised not to cry at Father Christmas, spill our orange juice, steal the cheesy wotsits or sulk when we didn’t win pass the parcel.
Dh was working and gutted that he couldn’t attend. Seriously. I finished work early and popped over to join in the festivities. I arrived in time for party games and the grand entrance of Father Christmas, accompanied by a large sack of presents.
It was fascinating to see the girls as they are at nursery, away from the beady eyes of dh and I. I’m pleased to report that they aren’t hugely different there than they are at home. G hogs all of her key workers’ attention and has a fit when C dares to tend to one of her other charges. R does her own thing and quite happily plays by herself or with the other children but looks round every so often to see if her keyworker – K - is watching her, and chuckles to herself when she realises that she is. G has such a strong bond with her keyworker that C texted her colleagues on a week off to make sure she was ok. I would employ C as a nanny if we had the money and space to accommodate her.
One of the other parents and I were chatting and agreed that we couldn’t do what C, K and the other nursery nurses do, particularly in the baby room. Imagine spending all of your working day (sometimes up to 10 hours) with twelve babies that you didn’t give birth to and don’t belong to you and ensuring that their every whim is catered for. Each nursery nurse has three babies that are ‘hers’ although the others help out during breaks, lunches and other busy times. There are generally four nurses in the baby room at any one time. They feed the babies, change their nappies, clean up their mess, comfort them when they cry, resolve disputes, organise activities, entertain them, stimulate them and look after them when they are sick, all for not much more than minimum wage. You have to seriously love children to be a nursery nurse. I know I couldn’t do it. There are days when I can’t face changing another pooey nappy and R and G are my children and I love and adore them. Imagine having to perform the same service for a whingy child that is missing its mummy, teething, grumpy and isn’t even yours. Hard, isn’t it?
I spent a couple of hours with them and I was exhausted. The girls are now on an extended Christmas break and don’t return to nursery until 5th January. I hope their keyworkers have a wonderful Christmas and New Year. They certainly deserve the break.
