One thing I have gained from being a nanny is tons and tons of patience. To much sometimes. But my patience wears a little thin on Fridays. I've been dealing with 4 kids all week and they. never. stop. And then when I wake up this morning and my bangs are not doing at all what I want them to do. This royally pisses me off. I'm usually not a big "girly girl", but if my hair is not co-operating...well then shit. And it's raining outside.

On the plus side-I'm headed off to New York City for the weekend with friends. It's so weird for me to be saying that. A small town girl from Montana headed to the most awesomest* city in the United States just because. I'm thinking of getting my lip tattooed there. Just for fun. Nobody can see it, don't worry. I won't be scaring the children.

*San Francisco is probably my favorite...but shhh.

I feel like I'm in an episode of Grey's Anatomy.

Mom needs heart transplant. Daughters halfway across the country. They need it soon or else she won't live. They have conversations about the will and the funeral and what not.

My life is a t.v. show.



It all feels so surreal. My mom is on ''the list'' for a heart transplant. Weird. Shes getting a beeper soon and then anytime after that she could be called in. I don't like being this far away from her in case something happens. It would take me a whole day to get there in an emergency, which doesn't sit well with me. She called me tonight to talk about the will and how I'll be getting money if she dies. Thats not important to me.

I want her to live and see me get married, and I don't want kids but she has other grandchildren that she needs to see grow up.

I'm flying over to see her for Christmas. She doesn't know, and it's so hard keeping it a surprise.

I wonder if she'll have a new heart by then.

I'm tired. Of people. And they're judging.

Why the fuck does it matter if I have my lip pierced, my septum pierced, my fucking eyeball pierced. Who the fuck cares. Does that make me any less of a person. According to my host dad it does. And the fucking soccer moms at preschool.

This is me. I'm one of the most down to earth girls I know. I'm nice, I smile (sometimes, I'm kinda shy) I love laughing, I like babies, I love life. But no, you can't accept that. You look at this weird piece of metal hanging from my nose and automatically think otherwise.

It makes me tired. Honestly people, get over it. It's just ink and metal. Thats all. It doesn't change me.

We put an American flag on the side of the house for 9-11.

When the kids and I go outside to ride bikes they like to pull on it and pretend its a toy. Today they did the same thing. I told them that if they touched it again they were going to time-out.

One of the boys piped up "Yeah, because if the flag falls we won't be American anymore".

The date never happened


Why do boys have to be so lame? Erg. I saw him Saturday night thought and we hung out.

But I'd rather be alone.

All the kids are finally back in school. This summer had to be the longest summer ever. Now I actually have time to breathe, even though I'm alone for only 2 1/2 hours. Its a nice 2 1/2 hours.

Enough about them...on to me. I'm going on a date tonight! AHHH. I think is my first 'official' date since I've been here. The guy is super awesome. We hung out Saturday night at the karoake and soooo yeah. We are going to go see the movie Beerfest and then something else afterwards. Beerfest..hehe. We are classy, don't be jealous.

I laughed super hard this weekend. Laughing is what I need.

Some friends and I went into Boston light night to another friends apartment. We sat and did On-demand Karaoke for like 3 hours. We all sang together. It was so fucking funny I couldn't even sing...I just laughed. And drank. And met a hot boy. Ahhhhhh.We are meeting up this week to hang out. I'm excited, that a little school girl.

One more week down. Only 4,685 more to go. Not really, but it feels like that.

The host mom, kids and I went to a neighbors house last night for a going away party for their aupair. Everybody kept asking my host mom how she did 'it'. It being raising four little fuckers. Her reply-Oh yah know. My reply-She doesn't fucking do it, I DO IT. And how do I it? Lots of alcohol on the weekends.

So its Friday and I'm off.

I think I've had enough of my host dad. Honestly, he can just leave now and I would be perfectly happy. For the first six months I was here he always travelled for work so he was never home. Now for the whole fucking summer he's been on 'vacation'. He needs to leave....go do something. He doesn't help out with the kids. He just gets them super hyped up and then leaves the room leaving me to calm them down. Joy.

Him and I don't really talk much but my host mom told me that he said something about my room today and it really pissed me off. I just changed rooms so my bedroom is now also part of the playroom/office. I don't really think it's my room because I have NO privacy but they are building a room for me in the basement so this is what I get. The dad goes up there to work during the day, sometimes. He complained about my stuff and how my bedroom is not picked up. UGH. If he would move his fucking office downstairs to the empty OFFICE room then he wouldn't have to deal with my shit. I'm sorry I have a pile of clothes on the floor there is no other place for me to put them. Until this douchbag decides to either move his desk or build my room faster than I'm going to keep hanging my underwear out for him to see them. God...men...and people, they are so...bleh

After moving all the way across the country and starting my own life I've left behind a world of crazyness. In the past month my

-Brother got married

-Brother-in-law went over to Iraq again

-My Grandma was diagnosed with cancer which they won't be treating

-My Aunt who has breast cancer only has weeks left to live

-The Dad whom I no longer talk to has tried to contact me and now wants a relationship...pff

And then on Wednesday my sister calls me telling me that Mom only has six months to live. I couldn't really believe her because she tends to over exaggerate everything so I called my Mom. Then my Mom under exaggerates, so I really don't know who to believe. All I know is that my Mom needs a heart transplant and I wouldn't doubt that if she doesn't get one within six months her health would be VERY bad. Just something else to add to the list of growing stresses.

Plus I think I broke a boys heart this week. Damn.

During the summer I normally get off work at 6:30. Tonight my host mom asked me to work late so she could have a ladies night out. No big deal...except Bob and I watch Project Runway every Wednesday night together. I asked her if he could come over here and she didn't mind, but she would have to talk to my host dad. We thought everything was fine until my host dad said that he wanted to watch t.v. downstairs tonight so he'll just let me get off a few minutes early so I can go to Bob's house. What the fuck? He never watches t.v. downstairs plus he has a t.v. in his room. So now he's home...three of the four kids are in bed and I'm. still. working.
The guy obviously can't handle putting one child to bed and can't stand the thought of a cool dude sitting on his couch.

My friday night was spent at the tattoo shop. It was awesome. She's not done yet, but I'll go back in a month and have her finished up.

2. and. a. half. weeks. until. school.

I don't know if I can make it.

I went to a 'hardcore' show last night. People...you have NOT lived until you have been to a hardcore show. It will change your life.

I saw Gorilla Biscuits, This is Hell, Comeback Kid, Righteous Jams, Set your Goals and a few others that I totally forgot.

The mosh pit area is chaos. They stage dive, they walk on each others shoulders, they do this weird arm punches and its crazy. I didn't even step foot in it because I got kicked in the head more than enough times at Warped tour. But...someday I will. Stagediving looks like so much fucking fun!

Who's harder to deal with: Parents or Kids?

Most of the time I would say the parents. Both of my host parents have been at home all day long for about 2 months now and it is driving me i.n.s.a.n.e. Why do they need a fucking nanny if they are home all day and do nothing. The Mom will go upstairs and take naps (because she's so tired, bullshit) and the Dad will go out on the boat. These are not my kids. I did not shoot them out of my girly bits, yet I'm the one spending the most time with them. Sad.

Tomorrow I have the day off though. I'm going to Warped tour, an all day outdoor rock concert. It's also supposed to be over 100 degrees. I'm kinda not looking forward to it. We shall see.

So excited, I can hardly stand it

I talked with her and she doesn't care if I get more ink.

First up: My arm

Then my other arm

Then my collarbones

Then my feet(well...adding to the feet)

Then my stomach

I'll be inked all over and still a nanny. Deal with it.

Shy

I have to bring up the conversation today that I want to start getting a tattoo on my arm.

I don't know exactly how to bring that up though.

So I'll just sit here and write....waiting for the perfect moment.

New Hampshire reminds me of home

Vacation is a word that usually makes me as a nanny shudder. So when my host family came up with the idea of going to New Hampshire this past weekend for the oldest childs birthday, fear just kind of swept over me. On vacation schedules just fly out the window which is a great thing for adults, but for kids...it sucks. They act like fucking little brats. But sometimes the parents are worse to deal with than the kids. For instance. On Friday morning we decided to sit down for breakfast. I ordered some awesome banana nut crunch pancakes which I wanted to fully enjoy. But of course 5 minutes into my indulgence two of the kids decided they needed to use the bathroom. My host mom told me that I could have the pleasure of taking them, so I did. As soon as I got back and took a bite another child informed the table that they to had to go to the bathroom. For fucks sake. The mom was now finished with her meal, I was not..but she told me I could take the child to the bathroom. Uhhhhhh.....She was not doing anything besides staring into space and I'm not even halfway done with my breakfast, why couldn't she take him? I take his to the bathroom and after we get back the dad informs us that everybodys done so he's just going to take the kids outside. The host mom then quickly replies that she'll go to to help him. That leaves me, sitting at a huge ass table by myself finishing my breakfast. Nice. I wasn't into that so I just left as well.

The rest of the weekend sucked. Rainy miserable weather. Now I'm tired as shit and have to work this whole next week without really getting a break. Hooray.

Berkeley is where I belong

I guess you could say I'm not the first person that would come to mind when you think of the word "nanny". I have my nose and lip pierced, two tattoos(so far) and my hair color changes about every six weeks.

Do these things make me a bad person? I sure hope not. But some people choose to believe differently.

I had another nanny friend whom I used to visit quite frequently. After meeting her host parents I knew they didn't like me. Their actions spoke WAY louder than words. They are conservative, and I am...not so much. I didn't mind them though. I respect them and what they choose to do with their life. They didn't have that consideration with me. After innocenlty visiting my friend about 5 times they kindly informed her that I was no longer welcome at their househould. They told her I was "to quite". ME? To quite? I know it's because my hair changes colors, and, well thats about it. I never really talked to them and they didn't even get to know me as a person. You look at these people on the streets with tattoos and piercings and think of them as weirdos. Some of them are, but most of them can be some of the nicest people you will ever meet. This family has since gotten a new nanny who is by far the most quite person I have ever met. I sure hope they are happy.

Numb

The kids have been actually quite good the past few days. I don't know why, but it's really nice. Of course things can never just be. Something always has to come up. This time it's the word cancer. My Aunt was diagnosed a couple of years ago with this disease. I had sort of forgot about it until my Mom e-mailed me saying that my Aunt now only has 6-8 weeks left to live. I don't really know how to react. Those words are just stinging right now. I have hope though....I really do. I hope the doctors are wrong.