The good, the not so good and the amazing of being a Nanny

Stories from the Front Lines of Nanny-ing

The good

For fifteen years, this profession allowed me to raise my daughter as a single mother with dignity. When she was just starting kindergarten, I stepped into nannying not just as a job, but as a path. That path carried us through. It provided stability, a strong income, and families who, for the most part, treated both of us with kindness and generosity.

Today, my daughter is eighteen and in college. Every step of her journey was supported by the work of my hands and the care of my heart. This profession fed us, sustained us, and gave us a life.

The not so good… or as I like to say, the lessons that shape you

I want to share a real experience from my nanny journey, because within it is a lesson every nanny deserves to learn sooner rather than later.

Like many nannies at the beginning of their careers, I said yes before I knew what to ask. I accepted positions with very little clarity. I knew my hours, my schedule, and where I needed to be. That was it. I did not yet understand the importance of agreements, boundaries, or even something as basic as paid holidays.

Then came December of 2002.

The family I was working for told me they would be traveling to Hawaii for two weeks over Christmas. I assumed I would still be paid. I was wrong.

When I was told I would not receive pay during that time, I tried to explain something very simple and very real: if I do not work, I do not eat.

What followed is something I will never forget. In frustration, my employer wrote a check, threw it on the floor, and expected me to pick it up. In that moment, something inside me broke, but something else was also born. I chose my dignity. I left the check on the table, said goodbye to the little girl I loved, and walked out in tears.

Later, there was an apology. There was a conversation. There was repair. But more importantly, there was a lesson.

From that day forward, I never again walked into a job without clarity. I began advocating for myself, educating families, and setting clear standards, not just for me, but for the profession. I started saying confidently that I am paid 52 weeks a year, and everything changed.

But there was another powerful shift that came from that experience. I realized that instinct alone was not enough. I needed knowledge, language, and a philosophy that would guide me in how I cared for children and how I showed up as a professional. That is when I truly began educating myself, and that is when my RIE journey began.

It changed everything. It shaped how I see children, how I communicate with families, and the level of respect I both offer and require. It transformed me from someone doing a job into a professional with intention, clarity, and purpose.

Years later, I experienced the opposite. Families who respected my work so deeply that I was paid even when they traveled for weeks at a time. The longest stretch was fourteen weeks. That did not happen by accident. It happened because I evolved.

The amazing

There are not enough words for this part, because the most meaningful aspects of this work cannot be measured.

They live in the arms of a child running toward you, in the way a baby looks at you when they feel safe, in first steps, first words, and the quiet rhythm of everyday moments that shape a human life. Thousands of hours reading books, stroller walks, park afternoons, library visits, laughter, tears, and connection. This is the real work. This is the invisible architecture of childhood, and it stays with you forever.

There is also a tangible side to this career that many people do not expect. Over time, I was able to travel the world through my work. From Hawaii to New York, the South of France to Sydney, London to Mexico, Montreal and beyond. I experienced extraordinary places, beautiful homes, and opportunities I once could not have imagined.

But what stayed with me the most was not the luxury. It was the realization that no matter where you go, nannies share the same heart. The same devotion, the same challenges, and the same quiet pride in the work we do.

What keeps me in this profession is the impact. To know that I entered a home and left something meaningful behind. To know that a child experienced respect, presence, and deep care during the most formative years of their life. To know that I helped shape a human being. That will always be the greatest reward.

Now I want to hear from you

This space is not just mine. It belongs to all of us.

If you are a nanny and you have a story to share, I invite you to be part of this. Tell us where you are in the world, how long you have been doing this work, how many children you care for, and what has been the good, the challenging, and the truly unforgettable.

Your story matters, because together we are not just a workforce, we are a community.