Read the article about nannies.

DOES MUMMY KNOW BEST?

For working women, entrusting children to a stranger is often a necessity. But, the subject of nannies, like hunting, is guaranteed to turn the most mild-mannered person into a ranting omniscient fiend.

When I first hired a nanny, three years ago, half my friends were appalled. What is the point of having children, they said, if you're not prepared to look after them? They cited Sigmund Freud's widely accepted theory about the first five years of life being the ones that determine behaviour throughout life. Was I really willing to leave this most onerous of tasks to a stranger? Was I prepared for the hideous eventuality of having my son love his nanny more than he did me?

The other half, old nanny hands themselves, whooped for joy. I had seen the light, they said. I would now be fulfilled by my work as well as by my child, and would as a result be a better mother. You need adult company sometimes, they said, and intellectual stimulation. Children are lovely, but lovelier still if you have the odd break from them. They'll always love you more, because you are their mother – thinking otherwise is simply paranoia. And you need to earn your own money to keep your self respect. What do you want to be – a housewife? Pull the other one!

Judge not, lest you be judged. The first rule of parenting is not to cast aspersions on the way other people bring up their children. But with the best will in the world it is hard to watch Quality Time, a documentary about working mothers, nannies and children to be screened on BBC2next week, without getting angry. It isn't that all three women — Janis, who works in public relations, Caroline, a beauty PR, and Dominique, a clothing executive – employ nannies. Nannies, after all, are a fact of life for many working women.

What is so shocking in a programme that will surely go down as one of the great TV stitch-ups, is the women's apparent disregard for their children's emotional well-being. One gets the impression that not one of them knows her child, or even wants to. 'I'm not used to children,' deadpans one of the mothers. 'After all, I've only had them for five years.' And if that little admission doesn't make your jaw drop, I don't know what will.

Dominique has two nannies on duty 24 hours a day, one for each little daughter. And a weekend nanny too, of course. And a holiday nanny. According to one nanny, Dominique has never – not once – got up in the night to comfort her crying child. You get the picture? Her daughters do: they see their mother so little that they take her photograph to bed with them to talk to.

Heartbroken sobbing permeates the programme, as almost all of the children featured learn that their beloved nanny – the one who plays, kisses, comforts, gets up in the night – has gone away for a long 'holiday'. Again. 'So far we've had sixteen nannies,' says Caroline's five-year - old daughter. Actually it has only been six, but out of the mouths of babes...

What's so grotesquely compelling about the documentary is the casual, systematic way that all three children – outwardly privileged – are emotionally bludgeoned before our eyes. They evidently have only a minimal attachment to their absentee mothers: that privilege is reserved for their nannies. And the nannies keep disappearing. No one explains why, so the bewildered children just cry, harder each time, as any sense of security they might once have enjoyed becomes ever more eroded.

That this will result in emotionally damaged children would be blindingly obvious to an amoeba – but not, apparently, to this trio of mothers in their power suits. But what if this style of parenting isn't bad, just honest? Should we admire Caroline for admitting she's 'not very good with children' despite having two of her own? 'I was getting on', she says in the film, 'I thought I might as well have them'. When I speak to her later she says, 'I had them very late. I'm a career woman!'

It is, conceivably, brave to identify your weak spot – children – and let others take care of it, while you concentrate on what you are good at: work. Of her weak spot, Caroline says, 'I know I wouldn't be much fun with them all day every day. I'm not motherly in that way.' Janis, meanwhile, sees nothing amiss inher two - year - old daughter having had six nannies, including a maternity nurse. 'Because she has been looked after by so many people, she is very independent,' says Janis, 'On her first day at school, she just breezed in'. Caroline agrees. 'The girls are amazingly unfazed by the succession of nannies. They know we are coming home at the end of the day.'

I suggest that it must be nice for the girls to know that their mother will be there to give them breakfast and put them to bed. 'Actually, the nanny gives them breakfast – I'm busy getting ready,' is the reply. 'Sometimes I don't see them at all in the mornings. It doesn't bother me or the girls'.

Since I have given the three women featured in Quality Time a hard time, perhaps I should give them a chance to do it to me. I packed my job in – and the £50,000 a year that went with it - to become a housewife. Because I believe that little children need their mothers. And the best nanny in the world is no substitute for the worst mother. Basically, I think that if you have children you should look after them.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-16