My hostess, the two girls, her father, the three resident canines of the Villa, and of course I, were taking a stroll around the property. As we are apt to do just before closing time at five pm, when the heat is low and the park is relatively free from tourists.
Our focus was to visit the recently planted roses in the Italian gardens dedicated to my hostesses deceased mother (my favourite Rose in the garden is called 'Barbra Streisand' and it smells like heaven) and to visit the grand fountain at the back of the villa to see if we could spot the turtle. We have been trying to coax him out of his slimey weedy hiding place with all kinds of food tid-bits but he won't have none of it.Then again with the way the 2 yr old pelts the surface of the water with the pellets he probably does think he is under attack.
On the way back down through the copse my hostess found the dogs trying to get into a rubbish can, in which she found a stranger had dumped a dirty nappy. On our walk we had run into a nice looking family with a little boy the last tourists of the day. We assumed maybe it had belonged to them. She left me with the baby in her pram as she raced off to the house to dispose of it in an environmentally conscious way.
Slowly I made my way down the crumbly road surrounded by magnolias and Oak trees, humming 'Amazing Grace' to help ease the little one into sleep. Of all the songs I sing, Amazing Grace is her favourite. With the first note of tha she will crinkle up her eyes, flutter her arms like a butterfly and give me this gorgeous toothless smile. Who would have known a 6 month old to have such poignant music taste. Apparently 'Wheels on the bus' and 'Polly had a Dolly' are too superficial for this little girl.
We are nearly at home once again, I can see the pink roses hanging over 'Nymph Hill's' wooden fence. When suddenly a man to our left strolls past obviously bent on a mission. He nods at me in a friendly way, and I think seeing me so at ease with the pram made him assume I was the babies' mother. My suspicions were confirmed when (in a broad Australian accent to my surprise) he informs me chuckling:
'We are just in the middle of a 'Poo Emergency.' And would you believe it, I left the bloody nappies in the car!'
Once I get over just how 'Aussie' he sounds I sigh as knowingly as I can and return a chortle as if to convey that I too am well aware of what it is like to be in the middle of a 'Poo Emergency' with no nappies. His stride develops into a trot and as he overtakes me I am filled with a silly sense of pride. Because what this means is that I have been welcomed into 'The Fellowship of the Poo' by a fellow member. I too am part of the world of the nappy-disposers and butt-wipers, otherwise knows as the childcare industry. Otherwise known as the period in one's life as Parent-hood. And I couldn't be more proud.
In all honesty I haven't actually had to do too many nappy changes. All three of my hostesses have liked to spare me the ordeal when they can. But here in Lucca I won't lie I find myself discussing Poo on a daily basis. With children, I have accepted, the topic is simply inevitable and inescapable. You may as well just embrace it and get into it.
The reason we are talking about Poo a lot of late is because the little 6 month old is transitioning from breast milk to homemade baby foods. Her little stomach is used to the uniform diet of her mother's milk, but now after a period of constipation as a result of the change she is producing solid poos. When she produced her first one my hostess told me over breakfast with great happiness. Clearly I have been so indoctrinated into this pooey fellowship that I too experienced genuine joy, and gave the baby a congratulatory kiss on the top of her fuzzy little head as she gurgled and smiled under the praise. It was only ten minutse later that I realised the gravity of my situation: I was talking about Poo consistency over breakfast and I hadn't even lost my appetite...I am slowly losing my 20-something-year-old-normality. Sometimes I wonder if I can ever go back to the way I was.
The only other time in my life I can remember Poo being a commonplace and socially acceptable daily topic of conversation was during the tour I was on in South America. During the trip stomach bugs were rampant. Basically every single person on that tour had diarrhea at one stage during that month and a half.
So sick of the relentless diarrhea a few of us would muse over how fantastic it would be to have constipation...for a day or two at least. The greatest anxiety experienced before the Inca Trail was not how the hell are we going to climb the Andes for three solid days of non-stop hiking, but is there going to be privacy on the hike to regularly void our bowels.
Amongst the poorliest of the tour Group (myself frequently included) we began acknowledging each other's bowel movements as a sign of solidarity. Over breakfast we would casually ask: 'So, how's the diarrhea going?' or 'So, did you throw up again last night?' When someone would announce 'Guess what, I did my first solid poo in a week this morning!' they would be met with high-fives and generally celebratory comments. Someone would mutter sadly under their breath 'Gee, if only I could do solid poos again.'
So this is what I have learned. The Poo Fellowship only silently forms during two unique situations:
1.When in daily contact with putrid dirty water full of bacteria
2. when one has kids.
...Fantastic.
***
Other than coming to terms with the fact Poo is a predominant theme in childcare there are other challenges one must face when working with children. Many other challenges...
All au pairing challenges I like to take with a grain of salt. It is also easier to deal with problems this time round in Lucca because I have the full support of the parents and because I know when my post finishes. So I have an ability to pace myself and put things into perpsective if that makes sense. But more than that I think I experienced the worst of the au pair spectrum in Pisa. Everything since that episode has been a walk in the park. Literally...
The problem I am encountering is not so much a 'problem' as it is part of the job, being a witness to a Tricky but essential stage in any child's development: their getting used to the presence of another sibling and how this changes their relationship with their parents.
In summary my two year old companion is suffering from the pangs of jealousy. Although devoted to her little sister who she smothers in tender kisses and loving murmurs, she is clingy with her Mamma to the point of being inseparable. When I first arrived my little friend was fascinated by my company, which was beautiful but not such a surprise. All the children I have taken care of have fortunately warmed to me within a week or two. But then we had a visit from one of the two year old's playmates from Genova. The little boy stayed with his his parents at Nymph Hill with us for two days. During which the two friends fought bitterly over the possession of their respective mothers, completely unaware their competitiveness was totally unwarranted and didn't even make sense.
'Mia Mamma!!!' he would cry, grabbing his mother protectively.
'Mia Mamma!!!' my ward would reply, grabbing her own mother with equal ferocity.
The two would then stare each other off, daring the other to claim posession of their Mamma.
The competitiveness seemed harmless at first despite some tears and general misbehaving. But since the occasion my little friend has been difficult and our relationship has changed. While she is well-behaved, charming and funny when we are just one-on-one, as soon as her mother returns or her baby sister joins the dynamic she becomes tearful, deliberatly destructive and aggressive towards me.
Fortunately I understand the situation very well. I know my little companion is actually devoted to me. The first thing she says when she wakes up in the morning is 'Meeyanda??' Her parents reassure her I am donwnstairs, ready to greet her at breakfast. Now with her rising feelings of insecurity she often sees me as a poor stand in for her mother....our time together is often thwarted by her need to attract her mum's attention, with more often than not frustatingly naughty behaviour. Whether it is stealing chocolate from the fridge, drawing on the walls, or not allowing me to dress or even hold her, she becomes virtually impossible to deal with until her mother drops everything and give her undivided attention.
But I understand that children don't have self-awareness at the toddler age of two and it is simply my new duty as au pair to be patient through these difficult daily episodes...it is just the nature of the job. Children need to go through these experiences to grow and learn about relationships.
***
That said Poo does crop up a fair bit in discussion regarding the two year old as well. At a recent party despite her parents suggestions to eat a diverse range of foods, my little companion insisted on feasting solely on her beloved salami. Slice after slice she ate until she fell into a post-salami-gorging coma. She awoke later that day with diarrhea.
It is nearly two weeks since said party but regardless of her sysmptoms, even if it is a bruise on her foot or a burn on her tongue, my little companion insists all her maladies are a result of the salami overdose. When asked what's wrong, she will suddenly become very sombre, look down at her hands, shake her head and mutter sadly 'Troppo Salami...troppo salami,' Too much salami indeed! Her mother and I hope that she will recover from the salami incident soon. Our worst fear is that she will go to the doctor with a serious complaint but all she will be able to do is preach about the horrors of eating too much salami in one sitting. Ah well, we can work through the jealousy issues and the salami issues one day at a time.
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