Au Dear...Revisited

We've had aupairs for the past three years now so as you can imagine, the news that we will have to register as employers, start paying tax, PRSI etc and pay them minimum wage, has come as a bit of a shock to me. I'm not quite sure what to make of it, to be honest. Don't get me wrong, I've heard the horror stories as much as the next person has, but I think our family (like many others) is being punished because of the actions of a few.

I work from home as a freelance journalist, blogger and media consultant. I set my own hours and I choose when I work and when I don't. I do all the school runs, myself or my husband help the eldest with her homework and on the rare occasion that any cleaning gets done in the house (have you seen my house?!) I'm the one who does it. The eldest two are in school from 9-1 and 9-1.30 and Tessa naps for about 3 hours in the morning. Often, I do my work during this time.


We also have an aupair. The kids love her, she's a kind, intelligent and engaging young woman from the United States. She's become part of our family. I cook for her every day and she eats with us. I've done her laundry, I've driven her to bus stations and to the pub, I've picked her up after nights out because it's been raining outside. She's been on holiday with us and has met my extended family. We've socialised together and sat down and watched a movie and had a few glasses of wine together. This week we've discussed starting to jog together in the evenings. She's not an employee. She's an extended member of the family who's around during the day to give me a hand with the kids. If I have work to do, she occupies the kids. If I'm not working, she might help out with household stuff like sorting out the kids' laundry, sweeping the floors or tidying up the never-ending mess that is the playroom. Or she might just sit with us and we chat and read stories to the kids. We've often gone to mother-toddler groups together - me to catch up with other local mums and her to chat with her aupair friends. We've had dance parties with the kids in the kitchen and she's told me all the gossip about what's going on with who in other families or with 'cute guys' around town. She's never had to scrub toilets, she gets weekends off, her friends are coming to visit from the States this week and she's taking a week and a half off to travel. We pay for holidays and if she works extra hours we give her extra money. If she babysits (she's done so once in the seven months she's been here) she gets days off or extra pocket money in return. Her regular pocket money is €100. Before Christmas, during a particularly gruelling work schedule for me, I didn't get to see the kids much at all (I still did the cooking, school runs etc) I paid her triple because she was more hands on with the kids than she normally was.

There's no way that I would have hired an aupair if I'd known I'd have to pay them over €9 per hour for working in my home. What's considered work? How do we quantify it? Is it only when she's doing something like sweeping the floor or putting the plates in the dishwasher after eating the dinner I've cooked for her? Is it when she's sitting chatting with us and singing songs with the kids as I'm sorting through laundry? Do we count the times in the evening when we're in the sitting room watching Scooby Doo? Do we restart the timer if she picks up a stray sock on her way to the kitchen after her official working day is over? What if she hangs up a load of laundry on a Saturday while we're out - does she get to charge overtime? What if she does something nice that I haven't asked her to do - like clean out the fridge while I'm gone for a walk with the kids? Should she bill for that too? I'm totally lost with it all. And as for the €54 that I'd be allowed to deduct for her room and board...She has the best room in the house. It's a converted attic, so she has an entire floor to herself, and she has a walk in wardrobe and gorgeous ensuite. She has access to our Netflix subscription, we got her a sim card for her phone, she has free wifi, no heating or electric bills, no food bills and I often pick up sweet treats for her as well. How is all of that worth just €54?

Our lovely aupair is going back to America in June. I'm already dreading it because she knows us so well and the kids adore her. We're already talking about her coming back to visit or wondering if we'll ever manage to get out to visit her in the States. I had planned on getting another aupair for when she's gone, but where do I stand now? There's no way I can afford to pay someone over €9 per hour, and with my work being so flexible, how will I find another minder that can slot into our day so easily and who can get to know the children so completely? These new rules need to be clarified. And while they're at it, maybe the Government could look at paying junior doctors and trainee teachers/nurses etc properly for the hours that they do? Or maybe they could re-examine the Job Bridge scheme?

Celebrating American Thanksgiving with our lovely aupair

Pizza Dough and my post-pregnancy body...

My children have taken to climbing on top of me every morning, pulling up my pyjama top and playing a game they've so kindly dubbed "pizza dough" on my belly. I'm sure you can picture it: they take turns - or sometimes all three get stuck in at the same time - at rolling and kneading my pale and dimply flesh, all whilst singing "pizza dough, pizza dough, pi-zza dough" at the top of their lungs. It's done wonders for my confidence, as you can imagine. So much so that for the first time since becoming a parent, I set foot inside a gym this week. Actually, that's a lie. I did sign up to one before my last baby was born but I never got around to going. That was €75 a month well spent. 

So this week, I bit the bullet. The new runners that I bought myself with great intentions during the January sales were dusted off and I found  pair of old leggings and nabbed one of my other half's old t-shirts. Off I went to a free taster class. How hard could it be? Pretty bloody hard, as I found out. And even typing this right now sends twinges of pain up my arms and the thoughts of climbing the stairs to go to bed is making me wonder whether sleeping on the couch will be an option tonight. It kicked my ass. 

One thing I did discover, however - and I mentioned this on my Facebook page this week and got quite a few private messages from women who could relate - is that I managed to make it through my workout without peeing my pants. I was delighted as it was one of the things that terrified me most about going. I've heard horror stories of women not being able to control their bladders properly after having kids and only discovering just how bad it was when they took up running or yoga or other exercise. So when the instructor handed me a kettle bell and told me to do some squats - something I've never done even pre-baby - I was terrified. "Please don't piss your pants, please don't piss your pants" was the mantra going through my head at the time. Discovering I'm not incontinent has been more rewarding than any six pack I may or may not develop if I do sign up to the course. If...

We hear a lot about "post baby" bodies - women are scrutinised constantly after becoming mothers...Criticised if they spring back into shape too quickly (she must not be spending any time with the baby if she's in the gym so much) or if she's "let herself go" and can't even be bothered to wear something other than a tracksuit. I've tried not to buy into it and to just enjoy motherhood and thank my body for safely carrying and sustaining my three kids. So in a week where we've had Mother's Day and International Women's Day and I've had my first successful gym session, I've just decided to *be*. I'm looking at the exercise as a way of letting off some steam and having a bit of time to myself in the evenings. If it puts and end to the pizza dough mornings, I'll just have to think of another game for the kids and I to play after our morning snuggles. And I might even start fitting into my old clothes again, which would be nice.

There's no fever as high as a man's fever...

THEY say kids are petri dishes for germs and that they turn your house into a living, breathing cess pit for all sorts of vileness over the winter months. This time last year, I’d have said the same – Maisie was being cared for outside the home for the first time since she was born and seemed to bring every bug going back to our gaff for shits and giggles. Literally. Shits more often than giggles though, as there’s nothing funny about diarrhoea. This year, however (and I may be jinxing myself here so I’m frantically touching wood between types) we seem to have escaped the school and pre-school germs. I mean of course there have been sniffles. But nothing that we can’t handle and versus last winter’s six vomiting bugs, we feel like we’re on the pigs back. 

There has been a bigger culprit this year though. And I think man germs may be worse than all the baby germs combined. Seriously. My other half has had two bouts of the winter vomiting bug and now he’s struggling with man flu. He passed one of his vomiting bugs onto the rest of us but of course no one suffered as much as he did. I’m sure any other women out there can relate: there’s no fever as high as a man’s fever, no vomit as projectile as the one that comes from a man’s gob. There’s no stomach cramp as agonising than the one in a man’s belly, no headache as achey, no nose as runny. The poor men…Last night himself retreated to the bed at 9.30, leaving me the remote and a room full of blissful silence. He seems better today but I have a feeling he’ll be struck down again later this evening, when the kitchen needs tidying after dinner maybe. The poor fellow. That man flu always strikes at the worst time.