How to turn a stroppy mum-hating teenager into a loving daughter
Send her to France to work as an au pair looking af ter two VERY demanding little girls – as her hilariously candid diary reveals . . .
EVERY summer Irish girls flock to the Continent to work as au pairs, hoping to learn a foreign language and earn extra cash. Here, FLORENCE SIBARY, 17, shares her diary of a three-month job in Lyon, lifting the lid on what it’s like to live with a family abroad, while her mother SHONA SIBARY reflects on the unexpected benefits of her daughter’s absence . . .
FLORENCE WRITES
Sunday, March 6, 2016
OFF to Lyon to start a new life! I can’t wait to be away from my family for three months. Nothing could be worse than being at home and Mum has made it clear that if I hadn’t taken this au pair opportunity she would have kicked me out.
Actually, the whole idea was her masterplan to get me out of the house after I dropped out of school. But how bad can it be?
I’ve got a six-year-old sister, Dolly, so I know how to look after small children and even though I never help at home I will, obviously, if someone is paying me.
The French family who have taken me on don’t seem to care that I’m only 17 and a smoker. I suspect it’s because Mum was so desperate to be rid of me she filled out the application form herself and made me sound like Mary Poppins.
I’ll be looking after two little girls — Aurelie, two and Mirabelle, five, and they’re paying me €90 a week. That seems like a small fortune — certainly more than I’ve been earning at my job in McDonald’s.
The mother is a lawyer and the Dad is CEO of an IT firm. I’ll be on my own with the children but it’s fine. I’m sure they’ve got a TV.
Monday 7
LAST night was overwhelming. When I arrived the entire family were there to check me out including both sets of grandparents. Everybody spoke to me in French and I couldn’t understand a word, so I just kept nodding and saying ‘oui.’
I think Mum must have told them I speak French. Which I don’t. God knows why they employed me, but when I left, Mum’s final words to me were: ‘You’re their problem now. Don’t muck this up.’
Tuesday 8
SOPHIE, the girls’ mother, took the morning off work to walk me through my duties.
On Monday, Tuesday and Thursday I have to pick the girls up from nursery and school and look after them until she gets home from work at 7.30pm.
Wednesdays and Fridays they finish at midday and I have to occupy them on my own until the evening.
She hasn’t given me any instructions about what to do with them after school, other than to ‘teach them English’.
And they are not allowed any TV or ‘bonbons’.
Seriously? My little sister spends half her life eating sweets in front of the TV —it’s the only way my Mum gets anything done.
Wednesday 9
OKAY, so nobody told me that Aurelie isn’t toilet trained. This afternoon when we got back from school she said: ‘Je faire pee pee.’
I had no idea what it meant and while I was desperately looking for my dictionary she did a wee on the floor. Gross.
I texted Sophie at work and asked if I was supposed to change nappies as well? She replied and said it would be good if I could potty train Aurelie. Fab. I’ll just fit that in around the English lessons then.
Thursday 10
APPARENTLY my biggest priority is to be on time when I pick the girls up. Today I got lost en-route. We’re in a suburb west of Lyon and every street looks the same. It’s also very multicultural. Everybody back at home is white but here everybody looks Arab or African. I’m not racist — it just feels different and a bit intimidating.
Nobody understood me when I asked for directions and my phone was out of battery. I’ve never felt so panicked in my life.
I eventually found the school — 20 minutes late. And I broke my first rule. I gave the girls Haribos in the hope they won’t get me into trouble.
Friday 11
THIS week has literally been hell. Is it just French children or are they all like
this? I’m finding it difficult to bond with both girls — not just because of the language barrier but because they are such little madams.
It’s making me miss my little sister so much. Dolly is happy and easy to please but I guess she’s been brought up differently. She knows crying and throwing tantrums is not the way to get what she wants.
Wednesday 16
TODAY I broke rule number two and put the TV on. Honestly, this is the most mind-numbingly dull job I have ever done and I have no idea how women cope.
I’m starting to understand why Sophie escapes to an office for 12 hours a day — I’m sure that’s a choice not a necessity.
And — dare I say it — I’m starting to see my own mother in a different light. We had au pairs growing up but they always spoke some English and Mum was always there, in the background. I can’t imagine her ever dumping us with someone like me for hours on end.
Quite honestly, I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing, but Sophie doesn’t seem to care.
Tuesday 22
HURRAH! I can get my laptop to speak French to Aurelie and Mirabelle, which has transformed my life. I just type whatever it is I want to say into Google translate, press the audio icon and a computer voice speaks to them. Tonight, as usual, Aurelie refused to get out of the bath even after I’d drained all the water and screamed ‘non’ at me for 40 minutes. In the end I made the laptop say: ‘Get out and you can watch cartoons.’ Which worked, thank God.
Friday, April 1
I NEVER thought I’d say this but I’m desperately missing home. This family is so messed up. Dominic, the father, doesn’t get home from work until gone 10pm every day, then he and Sophie sit down for dinner on their own.
Sophie is obviously very busy because she has never, once, got home at 7.30pm to take over. Usually, it’s well after 8pm and I’m not allowed to put the girls to bed even though they are almost falling asleep on the sofa.
Every day she brings them a present or chocolate and the moment she walks through the door they start screaming ‘Chocolat’ and refuse to kiss her until she has given them some.
They are only loving towards her if they want something and she accepts this. I cried tonight because being here has forced me to realise what a cow I’ve been at home. I’ve been telling Mum what a terrible mother she is for years but I’m starting to think it’s the opposite. Seeing things done so wrong makes me realise how much she got right.
Saturday 9
ANOTHER weekend and I’m so bored. My French family don’t want me in the house and all I do is wander the streets of Lyon on my own. Spending so much time alone has made me realise I really did lose the plot back home.
I constantly surrounded myself with people — the wrong people, according to Mum — and my behaviour got out of control. Now I’ve got hours by myself and I’m starting to feel guilty for the way I’ve treated everybody.
I’m so homesick. I’d give anything to go on a dog walk and have a roast with my family.
I can’t believe they used to have to force me to spend time with them.
Thursday 14
SOPHIE has a cleaner so I’m not expected to do any domestic chores other than tidy the girls’ bedrooms, prepare their meals and clear up afterwards.
But she does want me to iron, something I’ve never done in my entire life. I’ve been told to do pillowcases, sheets and Mirabelle’s scarves.
I don’t know what’s more ridiculous. Ironing a scarf or the fact it belongs to a five-year-old.
Tuesday 19
I’VE started FaceTiming (videocalling) Mum every day. She seems surprised to hear from me and I think we’ve spoken more in the past week than in over a year.
She’s actually been quite helpful with advice on how to handle the girls. She told me to be firm but kind and to try to understand that they must be missing their mother.
It’s probably true. I wish I’d been a bit more sympathetic.
Friday 22
I’M REALISING it’s more important to Sophie that the house is tidy when she gets home than what I’ve actually done with the children all day because she never asks.
But she always notices if a towel is on the floor. Aurelie and Mirabelle are terrible at tidying. They play with something for five minutes then chuck it on the floor.
And they’ve started to deliberately say they don’t understand me when it’s obvious they do. I’ll say: ‘Can you pick up your shoes, please?’ and they both look at me, think about it then say: ‘Je ne comprends pas’.
I have to stick this out though. Even if it’s just to show my parents I can be a success at something.
Wednesday 27
IT’S Mum’s birthday. I texted her today and told her I loved her, something I haven’t said in months.
It’s odd but I appreciate her so much more now than ever before.
Quite honestly, looking after these two little madams has made me realise all the sacrifices she must have made to hold things together.
Seeing how other people live has forced me to see that home isn’t so bad after all.
Tuesday, May 5
I THINK I’m going to die from scurvy. Sophie cooks elaborate French food every night for her and Dominic to eat together, despite the fact it’s practically midnight by the time they sit down, but the girls and I get stuff ordered online that can be shoved into the freezer and then heated up in a microwave.
We live on frozen croque monsieurs (toasted cheese and ham sandwiches) and they won’t touch any fruit — or vegetables, unless it’s tinned sweetcorn or mushrooms on a defrosted pizza. I miss baked beans. In fact I’m missing everything and everybody.
Sunday 24
THE grandparents came for dinner today. I’m not usually invited to join family meals but as I’m leaving next week they asked if I wanted to eat with them. I wish I’d said I was doing something else because the starter was snails.
The grandparents spent the entire meal complaining that the girls aren’t speaking English yet.
I restrained from telling them that they really need their mother not a messed-up 17-year-old. But, in three days it’s no longer my problem so I bit my lip.
Wednesday 27
IT’S my last day and I am over the moon to be leaving. I want to sleep in my own bed, give my little sister a huge cuddle and start to make things right with my parents.
I’ve only been here three months but it has been so isolating and difficult, it has forced me to take a long hard look at myself.
I wasn’t a good au pair — I know that — but I’m determined to go home a better daughter and a nicer human being.
MUM SHONA SAYS
NO MOTHER ever wants things to get so bad that she can’t stand her teenage daughter in the house another second. But that’s exactly the point I got to with Flo.
Her behaviour had become so out of control it was casting a permanent cloud over the entire family. I had to do something — but what?
I didn’t want to throw her out — she’s only 17 — but it was blindingly clear some tough love was urgently needed.
Then I had an epiphany. Having had 15 au pairs over the years, some as young as Flo, I know how hard and isolating a job it can be and how homesick it can make you feel to live abroad with a family who don’t love you or, indeed, put up with any of your nonsense.
So a plan was hatched and after filling out an application form for Flo (and yes, admittedly making her sound a bit more Julie Andrews than was strictly true) a family in Lyon agreed to take her in.
It was a stroke of genius. I never worried Flo wouldn’t be able to do the job. I’ve seen her look after Dolly and know she can be responsible — especially if cash is involved.
But what I didn’t expect was the transformation in her attitude towards me. She started phoning me every day — just to chat. That hadn’t happened in months. I began looking forward to speaking to her. She made me laugh, was pleasant on the phone, asked me about my day.
That may all sound normal to other mothers but the gulf between us had grown so wide that having a civil conversation was impossible.
And as the weeks continued a minor miracle happened. My daughter came back to me. Not geographically (thank God, I wasn’t quite ready for that yet) — but all those layers of hostility came crashing down.
There she was, stuck in a Lyon suburb feeling lonely and vulnerable. And who did she choose to turn to? Me.
It was so much more than I could ever have hoped for.