Tips for Au Pairs

Despite the fact that it has something like 9 or 10 months since I last updated here and I feel somewhat removed from this blog, I'd rather spit out the last few posts or so this place deserves even if no one is still reading. Regardless of how long it has been since I was in Holland. This post I've been sitting on the longest and I'm really glad to finally finish it up.

I've kept this down to five tips because everyone is different. Every family is different. Every au pair experience is different. I didn't want to get too specific with the dos and don'ts, but I did want to at least provide specific or thorough exposition for each point.

A wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm and adventure.

When I woke up this morning I did not feel like P. Diddy. I had Bruno Mars' "Just the Way You Are" stuck in my head, which is a wonderful way to start one's day. On the way to pick the children up for lunch the flawless Dutch radio played Cyndi Lauper blended into "I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight." Its been a great day so far and, with eight days left until I leave, I'm trying to savor all these moments. I'm already starting to sense how much I'm going to miss the children. I spent Saturday in Amsterdam (adventure post pending) and felt the first wave of what it will be like to say good-bye. But, if you read on, you'll see that my adventures will not end when I leave Holland.

Less than 24 hours after I land in Atlanta my dad and I are flying up to Minnesota to join my mom and brothers, who fly up on the 21st, for Christmas. My time will be split between our hotel suite and both grandma's houses. Guess who else is coming up?



Brandy is taking a Greyhound bus up from Kansas City to join me for New Year's in the "Land of 10,000 Lakes." (Thanks, Mom!) As you can see, we're incredibly excited. To celebrate the fact that we'll see each other for the first time in person since New Year's 2008, we danced around to "Total Eclipse of the Heart" and quoted a good portion of Ferris Bueller's Day Off.

But that isn't all. I'm roadtripping back to Atlanta with Erica when she drives down to Florida to start her internship in January. The big open road, excellent company, and more great music? Yes, please.



I'll have a lot on my plate when I get back to the States. School loan payments and unemployment. I'll have a lot to figure out. And there are some other special people I want to see and spend some quality time with. So much to do and think about. But Holland has definitely helped me transition from being a "thinker" to a "doer." I'm sniffing out opportunities, savoring my last week here, and looking forward to the next chapter in my life. Now, instead of Bruno Mars, I have Ferris stuck in my head.

Christmas in November

Back in August I asked my mom to send me a few things. We went over the list multiple times, trying to trim it down so it would fit in one box and not significantly increase the weight of my luggage when I fly home. Last weekend my dad took it to the post office and emailed me the tracking numbers. Three tracking numbers, to be exact, which baffled me because I expected only the one box. "You'll see why there are three when you get them," my mom explained. I was constantly refreshing the USPS page until all the boxes had cleared customs. Then, on Friday morning, I saw the delivery man pull up outside the house.



I signed for each one and carried them into the kitchen. Rosa was just as excited as I was to open them so we set up on the kitchen table. I tried to record myself opening each one but my camera kept cutting out and some chunks are missing, but I'll edit it all together and upload it to my parents so they can see my reactions.



All of the items I requested were included in a mix of extra surprises. A plethora of candy for me and the children. A book club book my mom thought I'd like. A CD she likes. A favorite nightgown and some new pajamasn. A postcard and keychain from Harry Potter World. A gift Paul, the French foreign exchange student, left for me in my room. A purse my dad bought me in New York. And all sorts of other goodies. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. I felt like a spoiled little girl again. Especially when I found the little note my wonderful mother wrote. The giddiness still hasn't faded.


I have the best mom in the world. Proof.

Then on Sunday Sinterklaas came to the village. He comes to Holland from Spain via boat every year in mid-November. With his assistant Zwarte Piet, who disperses pepernoten (gingerbread cookies) and other sweets to the children, he parades through the streets on a grey or white horse.


Roeland watching the band.

Zwarte Piets.

Another Zwarte Piet.

First sighting.





Last Thursday was St. Martin's Day. It is traditionally celebrated on November 11th. Children go from door to door with paper lanterns and sing for candy. The weather was incredibly windy and cold so Rosa and Roeland didn't participate this year. Instead they ran around the house with their lanterns, crashing into furniture in the dark while singing the song at the top of their lungs. So, although I missed that particular Dutch holiday I still got to see Sinterklaas and I got some sweet surprises from home.

A bit about the little ones

I don't post ever, if at all, about the children I watch. I've changed their names and won't post pictures of them with their faces showing for privacy reasons and what not. But I really should tell you a few things about them. Because despite the bad times such as messy diaper changes, whiney moods, absurd demands, and messes there are so many cute and hilarious moments every day that are just too precious not to share with someone.

Since I like making lists I've made a list of such instances where my heart melts or my belly aches from laughing so hard:

• They tend to copy many things I do or say that I never realized were habits of mine. Examples: Roeland says "Oh my goodness!" whenever appropriate and sometimes he even beats me to it. Rosa covers her mouth and giggles when I cover my mouth and giggle about something.
• Back in the summer (reality check: I've been here long enough to distinguish one season from another) I showed Roeland the movie Wall-E and he became obsessed. Then I introduced him to Toy Story and he's seen it enough now that he can sit there with me and go back-and-forth quoting it. One of our favorites is "What are you looking at you hockey puck!?"
• During the FIFA World Cup I'd turn on some of the matches during the day and we'd watch it for as long as their attention spans would hold. That is where they learned to say "miss!" whenever someone shot and missed. Well, now Rosa says it when she is putting on her shoes by herself and I tell her they're on the wrong feet. "Oh, miss!" she says and rearranges them.
• They're still young enough for kisses to be the ultimate fix to anything. A bump on the head. A tumble. A scratch from the cat. And so whenever I get hurt or say ouch they race to give me a kiss. Usually, it happens when we're playing together and one of them accidentally clunks their head against mine or something.
• Rosa has a very independent personality which I appreciate because I was/am like that, but it took her longer to warm up to me. Whenever Robin and Anna are home she still prefers them to help her with things if she wants help at all. However, these past few weeks she's shown signs that she actually likes me. Whenever I wear tights she rubs my leg and whispers "mooi!," which means 'pretty.' Yesterday she held my hand for something like 20 minutes while we were watching a movie. When I go to pick her up from pre-school her face lights up when she sees me and she runs to hug me. Today was the icing on the cake though when she turned to me and said "my Emma" while I was taking her upstairs for a new diaper.
• Roeland has become more attached as well even though he liked me from the beginning. Two weekends ago they gave me a ride to the train station and when I got out of the car he kept repeating the word "no." Last Saturday morning as I was heading out for a run he did the same thing because he didn't want me to leave. Evidentially, the week I was gone in Sweden he asked where I was a few times and when I would be back.
• During lunchtime I like to play music from my iTunes. Yesterday I put on Etta James and Rosa started dancing in her chair and humming along to "It's a Cryin' Shame." I asked her if she liked the song and Roeland, who doesn't usually like it when I play music, shouted that he liked it more than her.

Onto something good here

Bread with butter and sprinkles (hagelslag) is a common food in the Netherlands. I read about it before I came but figured it was probably one of those country trademarks. Maybe even a stereotype. But it is true. I make the children a boterham every day for lunch. Sometimes this just means bread, butter, and cheese. Or bread, butter, and ham. Or bread, butter, and Nutella. But most often it is bread, butter, and hagelslag. There are so many different kinds of sprinkles that I was astonished the first time I peeked down the aisle in the supermarket. My host parents buy just two boxes: one of chocolade hagelslag and one of fruit hagelslag.

For the first few weeks I held off from trying either. To me that is dessert, not a midday meal. But last week I gave in. It is too good not to eat, though I've been good so far about not having one every day.


Hagelslag boterham and yoki drink, which I've only seen here in the Netherlands.

The only real problem is that sprinkles are messy. They end up all over the kitchen table and on the floor. I feel like I'm always sweeping. They also stick to the children and I find rogue sprinkles in the bathroom, on the couch, and even in the bath after it has been drained. Regardless, I would never think to deprive them of this easy to make Dutch delicacy. Why couldn't I have grown up eating sprinkle sandwiches?

Getting somewhere

There really is not much for me to report about my first time in Amsterdam. I do not mean to say that there is nothing there for me to write about, but simply that my first experience in the city was not conducive to really discovering its true spirit. I merely glimpsed it. But it is still only the beginning, so there's plenty of time for some really good stories.

We all went on Sunday, the coldest day yet since I arrived. They gave me a tour from the car but I could hardly see anything they were talking about. I was in the backseat of their Volvo station wagon, squished between Roeland and Rosa's carseats. To see out the windows I had to hunch down. The children kept pushing me away whenever I leaned over, even very slightly, to peer out their window. I tried my best to take note of where the central station is and the Van Gogh Museum but everything else they pointed out (ie: good streets for shopping, eating, or strolling) did not make any sort of impact on my memory in terms of location. Besides, it is always better to explore on one's own. By foot. The car tour was a fair introduction.

After maybe thirty minutes we parked and had lunch at a bagel place. It was rather busy and as we were preparing to leave a woman dressed entirely in white (save for her belt, shoes, and jewelry) came in with a man, likely her husband. The only table available was a tiny table pressed up against our large one. While Robin and Roeland went up to pay Anna leaned over to me and pointed out how this woman was looking at us - she clearly wanted our table and was obviously agitated we were taking so long to leave. Generally this is rude, but if the situation includes a family with small children the rudeness increases greatly. She sat down on Ruben's spot, facing the table at which her husband was sitting. When Roeland returned he immediately (and very loudly) told the lady, "Hey, that's my seat!" (In Dutch of course.) Embarassed she stood up and tried to be playful towards Ruben, who was not taking it. Later, on the way back to the car, Anna began explaining that some lettuce from Ruben's sandwichhad fallen onto his seat. The woman with the white coat, sweater, and jeans ended up sitting on it. It were almost as if Roeland was setting a trap for her before she even walked in because when she got up after he yelled at her the fresh (and therefore very green) lettuce was stuck to the butt of her meticulously clean white pants.

Lunch was followed by a walk in Vondelpark. Had the weather been nicer it would have been a most enjoyable time but we all made the best of it. Even when it started to rain, only the children had umbrellas, and we were stuck on a bridge being sheltered by some overhanging tree branches, while a German man (tourist?) stared at us through his camera lens.



Other than last weekend I've not left the village. Up until Tuesday evening I had not even left the house since going to Amsterdam. It was too cold and wet Saturday and Sunday for Andrea to show me around on the bike so I can go to Purmerend and Edam. So, I've no place to go and no means to get there. My restlessness reached its peak Tuesday evening. So, I went for a run. I haven't gone for a run since sometime before Christmas and that was on a treadmill. This is how desperate I was to get out and get moving. I went over to the next village which only took about ten minutes to reach. Then from there I got on the paved bike path and headed towards Edam. I think Edam is something like eight miles away and I didn't intend to actually go that far. I just did two miles and turned back. Everyone I passed along the way said "Hej!" or "Hallo!", which made me elated - to find something so similar to Minnesota-nice so far from home.

Hopefully, I'll be able to take the train into Amsterdam on my own soon. Hopefully, I'll learn how to get to Edam and Purmerend on my own as well. I must admit that it is a bit unsettling to come off of four years living at college, where I had control over my own time and life, to be back in a setting where I'm part of a functioning unit. I felt the same way when I lived at home for a summer after living in an apartment in Italy. It has nothing to do with the family. It is just like what I said last time. There is a lot to get used to.

To build a home

Tuesday was my first day in Holland. Thursday was my first day as an au pair. Even if I say those facts out loud it still doesn't seem like my life. Even though I'm learning quickly this doesn't feel like my life yet.

To think, in less than 24 hours I went from a messy room and empty suitcases to a chilly room and three nearly full suitcases.



So, during the past five days I have had to adjust to life in another country as well as life with a family different than my own. It has been exhausting on so many differnt levels but I'm surviving. I've taken to observing and listening - two things I think I am pretty good at.

I observe how things are done or handled around the house and with the children. I listen closely to what they say in Dutch even though I don't understand any of it. Dutch is very new to my years. The only other languages I've been exposed to, aside from English, are French and Italian. With my years of Latin I am far more comfortable being around Italian, even if I am not fluent in speaking and can only understand enough to get buy on a day-to-day basis. But Dutch sounds so different. I am getting better at grasping the gist of things.

Anna sat down with me the night before I started with the children and I wrote down some words she thought I should know. Example:
dicht - close
meer - more
heerlijk - delicious
Ik doe het - I do it
The last one is used most often by Reinhilde (2). She is entering the terrible two's phase so she wants to do everything herself.

Other than just figuring things out I've found the children's daily diet of Sesame Street (Sesam Straat) to be most helpful. I speak in English to them, which fortunately Ruben (4) understands. Usually I can get them to repeat words back to me but for now I'm concentrating on the basics like "please" and "thank you." However, Ruben's favorite phrase is "you're being silly" which I said to him the first day or so and he thinks its hilarious to yell it back at me.

Which brings me to my best mechanism: humor. Not only is it wonderful to hear the children laughing (or giggling in Reinhilde's case) but it helps them feel comfortable around me. It has been working so far. The afternoon Robin and Anna commented that the children have such great chemistry with me which is unusual so soon. I was flattered, of course, and I hope that I can keep up being on their good side. It takes a lot of energy and patience to be an au pair.

Yesterday we went to Purmerend and Edam. Today we went into Amsterdam. However, the adapter I brought over does not work on my Macbook so I can't upload pictures until I get a different adapter. An entry about this weekend shall have to wait.

And that is why I'm keeping this post on the short side. Plus, I'm not settled enough yet to really write about daily life and what not. Of course there are little things I already know I'm feeling - a sense of homesickness and the like but I'm going to move on from that soon. For now, I'm exhausted and Italy is playing in the Cup. It's time to take a little break and watch my boys.

Hello from Holland!

As I begin typing my first entry from Holland it is 8:41pm. I have been in the country for almost exactly twelve hours. My first day is nearly over but I feel it will be a very long night trying to adjust to the time zone. I slept for most of the plane ride, save the first hour during which dinner was served. Then at about 1pm I took a two hour nap. I can't really tell if I am tired but I am definitely sore from being cramped up in an airplane seat. It will probably hit me very suddenly so until then I'm going to unpack and try to settle in.



I don't think telling everything about today would make a good blog entry because there is so much I could and should say. For now, I'll keep it simple and over the next few weeks as I become better acquinted with life here and with the family I can share it bit by bit with you.

Robin picked me up from the aiport this morning with Roeland, 4, and Rosa, 2, in tow. Roeland shook my hand right away but Rosa hid behind her arm for the first thirty minutes while we sat at one of the aiport's cafes biding time until traffic cleared. However, once we arrived at their charming house in Middelie the three of us played on the swirling desk chairs in my room. Then we played outside with bubbles. Then we played with magnetic letters at the kitchen table. Robin guided me along the children's daily schedule. Snack time. Bath time. Dinner. After we picked Anna up from the train station she showed me where I can find the basic necessities such as the shower and towels. Tomorrow she'll show me the more complicated things such as cell phone and TV.

I can't say what I'm feeling exactly. I was too busy watching, listening, and learning today to think of much else. But now that I have some time to myself it feels a bit like summer camp. Of course, I'm older now and I'm not sleeping in a bunk bed with my friends only a whisper or giggle away. I'm going to be relying on Facebook much more than I'd like. I love old-fashioned letter writing but what one writes in a letter is very different than what goes in an email or wall post. It takes longer to get to the addressee and it takes even longer to recieve a response than it does to simply click 'send' and 'reply.' My survival will also depend on Skype dates as it did in Italy but sometimes that is what makes me realize just how far away I am from everyone I know and love. Even though the phrase is somewhat cliche, distance really does make the heart grow fonder. In fact, one of my three very best friends, Elizabeth, and I became close by writing letters while I was in Italy. We had only known each other a few months before I left. Being so far away from each other and living such different lives made us connect in a special way and I don't think we will ever drift apart.

I think I'll end on that sentimental note. Yes, I'm thinking of home but we'll see what happens tomorrow. Or what I have to say next week. Next month. Many months from now.

I have confidence.

Lately I am more and more convinced that the Netherlands is the place for me. When I first began exploring au pair opportunities I was certain that I wanted to live in Italy (again). I was in contact with various families throughout – Milan, Rome, Florence, and Verona. But at some point I realized that if I wanted to be an au pair to be part of a family from a different culture, then I should probably explore families outside of the one place abroad I've already lived. It was incredibly difficult for me to come to that understanding, and to tell the Italian families that I did not feel qualified to be one of their potential au pairs.

I've already told the story of how I “met” my future host family. It really was one of those instances where everything fell into place almost perfectly. (Which seemed to happen much more in my life after this first instance with the au pair thing.) Although all the facts and details lined up, it really was about that gut feeling. Knowing that we were right for each other. I started emailing back and forth with their current au pair, Caroline, from the very beginning. Just after the first phone conversation, I believe. She said that for her as well it was that same instinct with this family. At first our emails were more to get an idea of what life was like in their household and what not. It turns out, however, that her and I have quiet a few things in common as regards our love of culture, languages, and travel. Aside from the good vibes I got from the host parents, Robin and Anna, the information that Caroline passed onto me about how she felt about them and her time there solidified my feelings. She taught English in southern Spain for several months before joining the family in January. Her and I exchanged quips about how different the Spanish and the Italians are from the Dutch. From my experience, the Italians are very warm and enthusiastic people. They feel everything very intensely, which is one of the things I love most about them. Their love for life is their greatest love and I never felt more alive than when I was living in Italy, trying the Italian way of life. I still try to carry that with me. According to Caroline, the Dutch are very friendly, open, and honest. Holland, she said, is very unique. And I love, love unique. I even like the word. Unique. I also really like the word Holland.

Before my conversations with Robin and Anna and emails with Caroline, I knew very little about the country. There are many tourist clichés about Amsterdam, which I will likely address in the future, but I have not paid much attention to them so far. In my Italian class in Florence there was a girl from Amsterdam. Veerle. She introduced herself to me on the first day and I quickly discovered that her personality was magnetic. She was very friendly. Very open. Very honest. And always fun to be around. I want to try and avoid stereotyping, even though I did it above with the Italians, but if the Dutch really are as unique as Veerle then by definition it will be impossible to stereotype the Dutch.

My other source of information is my father. He spent a week in Amsterdam during the summer of 2006 when the company he was working for was in negotiations to buy a Dutch mining company. His hotel was in the city but all the meetings were a train ride away in some town he doesn't remember the name of now. The one time they actually went anywhere in Amsterdam was for dinner. They went to a resteraunt that served Mexican food. They went out for Mexican while they were in Amsterdam! When I asked him earlier today what he remembers about it all he replied with two things.
1) "They don't put ice in Coke." My dad is an avid Coke drinker. And he likes his Coke with ice. Lots and lots of ice. When he asked for ice in the Netherlands they put in three cubes.
2)“They were all going mental about this soccer thing. The World Cup? It was uncalled for. Who cares about soccer? No one. They were wearing their jerseys and waving these flags. They were all like 'Woooooooo.'” That is my dad and his brand of humor. It is something along the lines of sarcasm. He doesn't mean it, really. And he was a football player so to him soccer, and the fact that it is called football outside of the US, is unnecessary.

I like the fact that the only place my dad has visited in Europe is Amsterdam. Even if he didn't really get to experience it. (Mexican food does not count.) I also really like the fact that he went four years ago at the same time of year as me. And that the World Cup was going on. I have a great passion for the World Cup. Again, another topic you will be reading more of sometime in the future.

So, to get a better idea of my future home I've spent a significant amount of time perusing a few blogs written by Americans living in the Netherlands. My favorites of these are:

Clogs and Tulips: An American in Holland
Tiffany Jansen
This blog is well organized, well written, and full of information! I love her post 10 Things to Have in Your Purse in the Netherlands. Carrie Bradshaw has a thing for shoes. I have a thing for purses and bags. And maybe that will include umbrellas after a few months over there.

Life Abroad by Heather
She moved to Amsterdam after undergrad with her boyfriend for his job. She just recently moved back to Toronto to go back to school but I'm addicted to her posts and photos. Amsterdam Treasures has me itching to get over there to see what sorts of little loves I will find.

I've added these blogs and others to the links in the sidebar. I know I won't have the time or the attention span to thouroghly comb through all the blogs and all the posts but so far they have contributed to this growing feeling that the Netherlands being the perfect place for me. By the time I land I'll be lugging my suitcases and singing “Confidence in Me” just like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music.

All things go, all things go

Since this is my first post I suppose it would be best for me to start this story from the very beginning. I have never been one for chronology, despite my love for history, and to be honest I am not particularly fond of writing "beginnings". However, I am going to try my very best to write this story as it goes along and one could always use a good ol' "Once upon a time..."

Here it goes:

Once upon a time there was a girl who was not exactly sure what she wanted to do with her life. She knew what she should do:
(a) find a respectable job
(b) go to graduate school
(c) find a respectable man to marry and settle down
(d) all of the above
But she was not satisfied with following what society wants everyone to believe is acceptable. She wanted to follow her heart, head, or a combination thereof. She knew she was interested in going to graduate school at some point but until she was certain which field would suit her best she decided to take some time off to consider the big life questions she knew she would have to face whether she wanted to or not. So, she decided to do the only thing she was certain she wanted at this point in her life - to live in Europe. The best means for her to do so (without the stress of finding a random job overseas, filling out messy paperwork, or paying extreme amounts of money) was to live with a family as an au pair. It is important, before this tale goes any further, for the reader to understand what an au pair is exactly. Let us consult Wikipedia: "An au pair (plural: au pairs) is a foreign-national domestic assistant working for, and living as part of, a host family. Typically, au pairs take on a share of the family's responsibility for childcare as well as some housework, and receive a small monetary allowance for personal use.
The title comes from the French term au pair, meaning "on a par" or "equal to", indicating that the relationship is intended to be one of equals: the au pair is intended to become a member of the family, albeit a temporary one, rather than a domestic servant."

For our heroine this was precisely the opportunity for which she was looking. Although she did not have enough money scattered about to pay for the fees an au pair agency requires, she was able to create profiles on various au pair placement websites. Within a week she was already in contact via email with families in Italy, France, Sweden, and the UK. As she began to learn more and more about each family she began to understand what she was looking for in a host family and began narrowing her choices. Still, she did not feel she was well-suited for some of the families or countries. Nor did she feel that "magic click" with any of the parents. Until she received a voicemail one day while in class. A family with two children from the Netherlands had looked at her profile and were so interested that they called her up on the phone to introduce themselves. This made a great impression on her because writing an email, though time consuming, is not entirely personal. Dialing a phone and paying fees to call someone overseas takes much more effort and care. She set up a phone date with the Dutch family and during that first conversation she felt giddy with possibility. This was the right family for her and she was the right girl for them.

And that is the beginning of the story. For now. Don't worry, I will not be writing in the third person like this. It is simply for dramatic effect.