6:55am: My body now wakes me naturally at this time, 5 minutes before my alarm is set to go off. Truly a welcome change from earlier on in the year, when I would awake many times in the night, panicky and sweating thinking I was late, would start to dress then realize it was 4am. Although recently, with the kids sick every other two days, I frequently wake up, straining to hear the dreaded sounds of kids crying in the middle of the night, somberly accepting the inevitable, that any plans will be broken in favor of taking care of, more often than not, kids who are only sick by overprotective au pair-family standards (ie- cough=possible hospital visit and 2 days off of school)
7:10am: Lie in bed with my eyes closed, eeking every last possible second of rest under my cozy comforter. Wait until signs of life are heard from the kids, then proceed to jack-in-the box out of bed, throw on pants and a t-shit, slip into my crocs (the Suisse have this thing about ALWAYS wearing slippers or "house shoes," very odd and unexplainable), and get the morning started. Porridge making, old-fashioned style on the stove follows, and after my good morning scream of "BOOOOOO" from Toby and Benji, I proceed to prod and nag until they've gotten dressed, then dole out the porridge, feeling like the orphanage director in Oliver with his big pot of steaming gruel.
8am: Getting ready to leave for school, I bundle the kids up "A Christmas Story" style (I am eagerly awaiting the day when Benji will yelp, "I can't put my arms down!"). Walk/drag the kids across the street to Toby's school, say goodbye, and run to catch the Tram to get Benji there by 8:15. There is a high school or collège just down the block from Toby's école, so I am getting really good at offensive line blocking for Benji, one elbow out forging a pocket through the masses of smoky European teenagers, the other holding on to little Benji for dear life.
8:30am: After helping Benji take off his coat and put on his slippers (it is SO weird), I breathe a sigh of relaxation that the "morning shift" is done. Come home, have a caf'é or three), toast & jam, and some amazing bi hazelnut yogurt, which I have to hide in the back of the fridge just in case Benji ever decided to scour the house in search of some allergic dairy delights.
8:30-3:00pm: Ahhhhh, free time (well at least on M, T, and TH). How this wonderful, gaping void in my day gets filled depends on how aambitious I'm feeling. Somedays, it's straight for a run after breakfast digests, then cleaning, errands and possibly some reading to boot. I try to make most days of the "ambitious" genre; it leaves for less time to be homesick, and question my decision to be here in the first place. But other days (maybe once once, ok twice a week), I head straight back into my bed after breakie, my sheets and blanket still retaining the night's glorious warmth. You might think, whoa what a lazy ass!! And to be honest, a lot of times I think that too. But I'm graduated from college, and the world of 6am to 6pm work looms on the horizon. This may be the last time in my life where I am free to take a morning nap, and I am damn well gonna take advantage of it.
3:00-6:00/7:00: Back on Duty, I brave the crowd of "International Mommies," who look like they've jumped straight from the pages of Glamour to the playground, to pick up Benji from school. Nearly ever day after school we head to Coop (FYI, not as in chicken-coop, but co-OP, with French accent of course), the Swiss version of Kroger's. Michelle's system of having me, who doesn't actually do any of the cooking, order the groceries results in things constantly being forgotten and needing to be bought. Therefore, I am practically on a first name basis with the entire Coop afternoon checkout staff. Groceries successfully purchased, we pick up Toby, then head back to the house to do homework and play until the parents get home. Theschedule on the wall says 6pm, but I don't think there has been a day yet when they have been home before 6:30.
6:30-11:00pm: Once Michelle comes home, the curtain is drawn and my jazz hands ready. I recount any information/gossip I've learned at the school, and over-enthusiastically recall any cute, smart or funny anecdotes I've heard from Benji or Toby. This part of the day I actually detest the most. So much of it just seems so fake, because when I am done I really want to be done. Having to hang around and act like I am thrilled to discuss how amazing Benji did at his reading, or how incredible it was that Toby wiped his own butt is NOT how I want to spend the first precious moments of my night. I really am growing to love Toby and Benji, but they're not my kids, and small doses are preferable to ensure that I don't OD on them before the year is up. But I don't want to be completely negative about the family, because 95% of the time I really feel incredibly lucky that I have such intelligent, cool, and down-to-earth employers/friends. A friend of mine, who for top-secret au pair purposes shall remain unnamed, works for a woman who holds a university degree, yet spends her days getting her hair done, going to "gymnastics" (aerobics), and setting the table for her dinner parties two days in advance. And while I can't always related to the latest gossip from international development circles, or to strategizing political career manoeuvres, at least I am being exposed to interesting and different lives I would never have gotten the chance to know about, had I not taken the chance and moved across the ocean. So after the (always amazing) dinner, I will chat with Michelle and Marc (thankfully usually not about kid stuff), then go and e-mail, read, or watch some illegally downloaded Grey's. Pretty normal stuff actually, almost akin to what I would do at home.
I've been rather melancholic and introspective as of late, thinking about the fact what I do here isn't all that different from home, and worrying that I'm not, as planned, "figuring out what I want to do for the rest of my life." But on an evening run the other day, de-stressing after having all my plans ruined and staying home with a not-sick-sick Toby, I was thinking about how years from now, if I look back on this year and all it was was the year I au pair-ed in Switzerland, ran my first marathon, and made some friends from all around te world, it's ok. I won't lie, I had high hopes that I would have an epiphany and realize my purpose and calling in life, or at least meet the the man of my dreams.....but if not, I'm becoming OK with this year being exactly what is: my year living la vie d'une fille au pair.
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