Friday, March 26, 2010

New News

The people who I don't regularly: see, e-mail, text, Skype, Skype chat, stalk their cell phones via Skype, drunkenly (oops) call/text from my phone, Facebook chat and/or Gchat (what, I was a communications major) on a regular basis, you might not know what my plans are for my life, post Semi-Swiss. And now that I have firmed them up a little bit more I can finally share them:

I am moving to Australia!

I was all set to move back to the U.S. and start a "real job" when, talking with a friend, I realized that I am only 23, and have nothing holding me back from travel (for instance the three ds: debt, dude(s), and/or dog). So I got to chatting with my friend Danielle, who was already planning to relocate to Australia after her year, and we decided to go together.

I already have my visa even!

Danielle and I aren't going until late August (springtime down under) so that leaves me with two months of "free" time to kill before. And in the excitement of obtaining my visa I may or may not have accidentally agreed to do something... Stay and work for The Family through July. (If I had told myself this in December I would have laughed in my future-me's face.) However, I do have the first two weeks of July off (making my grand total of holiday weeks to seven) so I guess it is only two more weeks of taking the kids to the pool (life is tough). The new au pair will be coming in August, but the Father said I could stay with them until I left even if there is some overlap, maybe I'll get to stay in the guest bedroom with my very own bathroom! (Or maybe I'll just opt to stay with some of my friends for the month of August...)

Either way, I'm very excited about the move (not to mention the beach, and fabulous Australian accents). That leaves me with just three questions: Do I continue to blog? Do I keep the same name or start a new one? If I were to start a new one, I need suggestions for a name--ideas?

Time to pack for Spain/Portugal!

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Three is a Magic Number

On t.v. and in movies women are always freaking out because they think, "I'm turning into my mother!" But for me, turning into my mother isn't such a bad thing.

I know I know, I'm always waxing poetic about how great my mom is. But seriously, when you have a mom as great as mine it is hard not to brag. (I mean in our neighborhood production of "The Wizard of Oz"--yes Molly, I said neighborhood production... that's the kind of neighborhood I grew up in!--she was cast as the Good Witch Glinda, she really is that good/loving/generous/kind and she's funnier than Glinda!)

Like I was saying, turning into my mom is a good thing in my book. However, my dearest mom and I haven't always had the smoothest relationship. When I was younger we argued (okay, I argued) about three things mostly: this parent class she went to, practicing the violin and eating fish. (Rough childhood, I know.) I didn't like the parenting class because I thought it meant that a.) Jack & I were bad kids (probably true) and b.) that my mom was a bad mother because she needed a "class" (definitely untrue). Working as an au pairent (ha ha) I've come to realize that groups of people going through the same things are essential, if I didn't have my au pair group where I could vent about the kids having lice or something it would be a lot harder.

The second thing we fought about was fish. Our standard dinner growing up was rice, steamed zucchini and some sort of fish. It was torturous for my 3rd grade self, I swear.

The last thing was my violin practice. I hated (seriously) hated to practice the violin. Once I got to the point where I wasn't steadily inclining like I once had been and had to practice to improve I realized that maybe violin wasn't as fun as I had thought. So I didn't want to practice and my mom did. She always said, "Three time's a charm" and it began to be a dreaded phrase. I swore to myself that I would never force my child(ren) to play an instrument and especially never, ever use that phrase. (Also utilized in the memorization of spelling words and times tables.)

Now that Boy and Girl are learning the piano I find myself making them practice their songs three times and saying, 'Third time's a charm!" However, their piano has improved and Boy has learned his times tables. I guess mother's do know best.

Also, you'll never guess what I made for dinner tonight...

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Spring Has Sprung!

I may or may not be jumping the gun here... but it's time for SPRING CLOTHES!

Will try to write more later, just sifting through my massive amount of sandals at present. Who knew I had so many pairs of shoes?

(Well, to be honest, most people did. I brought 13 pairs of shoes for four months in Vienna [excluding the winter shoes my parents brought when they visited] so we all knew I had a few too many...)

But the best thing about the winter-summer clothing switch is finding clothes that you had forgotten about (thank you yellow J.Crew shorts)--it's like shopping but you know it already fits and is free!

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Just Beachy

A year ago I was on spring break with some of my best friends in the whole world. As I was reminiscing yesterday (on St. Patty's Day of course) I couldn't help but think, "Last year during this week is when I accepted The Family's offer to become their au pair."/"Last year I was on a BEACH with my best friends." (When in reality I spent most of the time at the beach on St. Patty's Day in the ocean because the sand was littered with bottle caps trying to slice my feet, holding my beer above the waves as I swam.) I had no idea what I was getting myself into and some days I cannot believe I am doing this (think picking up your flosser out of a pee-filled toilet with a plastic bag over your hand... By the way, thanks for that college education dad!) but in the end, I'm glad I did.

I've become calmer about my disdain for au pairing and I really think it has to do with time. (And you all thought I was going to say my attitude, didn't you?!) Now that I have less time in front of me than behind me I can more fondly remember the funny things Girl and Boy have done, rather than the time(s) that Boy slapped me (that was fun) or cried because I unjinxed Girl first (still happening, and no, I'm not kidding) or woke up at 6:45 am the morning after St. Patrick's Day awaiting their breakfast... Okay so some of them are still fresh, but in the end, I'm sure I will be glad that I survived! and/or finished out the year.

Plus, I just have to keep reminding myself that this time in two weeks, I'll be back on a beach.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010


You know how everyone has those annoying and/or quirky habits? Well this is a story of how two became intertwined this morning.

After several (painful and expensive) years of orthodontia I finally had metal-free, straight teeth and I am pretty set on keeping them that way. I am also terribly afraid of having food stuck in my teeth (years of food-trapping braces will do that to a girl) so my weird habit is flossing. I love to floss, I carry it with me pretty much everywhere. Once when I was "working" at lacrosse practice a girl in the gym broke her glasses and, I kid you not, I fixed her glasses with floss. I love floss and I love to floss (and that's why I love the dentist).

Boy, on the other hand, loves to go to the toilet and then not flush. Can you see where this is headed?

This morning I go upstairs to the guest bathroom (which I leave my tooth-brushing accoutrements in) and grab my toothpaste, toothbrush and beloved awesome floss-brusher thing from the box on the ledge. Then, the worst happens.

I drop my flosser IN the toilet. The toilet, I then realize that is filled with urine. If a swear word could combine with "yuck" I think I said it this morning. I was in a serious dilemma: My poor flosser was not only IN the toilet but in the pee-filled toilet. (Only made grosser by the fact that it was not my pee.) But I couldn't just leave my poor, plastic baby in the toilet because it certainly wouldn't flush.

What's a girl to do?!

So it was a sad day in the Family house, I said goodbye (via plastic baggie around my hand) to my flosser, it will be missed.

I think boy is going to have to learn to give up his annoying habit...

Monday, March 15, 2010

Oh Baby!

I can keep this news back no longer (and most of my friends here already know it because I can't not have some I-need-all-the-attention-story whenever I see a group of my friends... Nice to know some things don't change huh Howie?).

Thursday morning Girl comes downstairs and says, "I have some good news!"

Now let me explain, it was snowing really hard that morning so I assumed her good news was school was canceled and it was a snow day. So naturally my first thought was, "Damn it!"

I was not expecting (pun intended) what she said next:

"My mom is going to have a baby!!"

I think part of my jaw is still on the kitchen counter. (My first thought, "The poor next au pair!!")

I would have been less surprised if she said she wanted to pogo-stick from Switzerland to Canada to "my country." (Oh wait, she did say that the night before.)

But there it is. The Mother is pregnant. And if I might be so bold as to add (and it's my blog so I can) I don't think she's really that excited about it. Today we had the chance to talk a little more about it and the truth is, she's not. I think she's got too much going on to think about the upcoming Family member hatching at the end of October, plus she said she hates being pregnant. (Side note: French women are unaware of the concept of "baby weight," so I don't know what she's thinking about.)

As I have never had the "we're having another baby" conversation I was pretty excited. After school I kept asking Boy about if he was excited, and he kept talking about getting the high score on the iPod game... I am a little nervous for Boy and Girl and how they will handle having a new baby. (Who shall be called Baby, not to be confused with TB.) Boy already pretends to be starved for attention and relishes any time he can spend with his father. Girl is tiny, cute and because she is so tiny and cute can and is carried a lot. So I don't exactly know how she'll react when some one who is tinier, cuter and actually needs to be carried comes along. Again, all I can say is, "Thank goodness I leave in July! Poor next au pair!"

There's only one issue that I have with the whole Baby thing. Since now I'm old enough to know how babies are actually made I know what The Mother and Father did to make a baby... And good god that creeps me out! I'm just saying it better have happened on one of the weekends I was away... Yuck!

But really, I'm happy for The Mother and Father as long as they are happy, and I can't wait to see Baby. Via photo on e-mail.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Lowest of the Low

Forward: Mom, Dad, family members (besides Jack) and friends of my parents who read this, I understand I just wrote about how I like when you all ready my blog, but today, I don't think you should read this post. I know you will anyway, but don't say I didn't warn you.

This weekend I wanted to have a low-key weekend. The Family is gone skiing so I had the house to myself, Friday I stayed in applied for jobs and lazed about. Saturday I applied for jobs and organized my Gmail account (Kristen you'd be so proud), but had plans to meet up with some au pairs for dinner around six. We have a great time at dinner and head over to the "au pair bar" (i.e. cheapest beer/wine in Switzerland) where I share two bottles of wine with my friend Sarah. After that We go to one more bar and I have a beer, so, for me, it wasn't a copious amount of alcohol. I made it onto my 10:50 pm bus, proud of myself for not having spent a lot of money that night and make the journey home. About 1/4 of the way though I start to feel sick. Like if-this-bus-keeps-bumping-I'm-going-to-vomit sick. I decide that I have to get off. Now. So I press for the next stop and get off the bus. And by get off the bus I mean immediately fall out of the bus. More embarrassed than anything I stand up and realize, I can't stand up. There is something wrong with my left foot. Super. So now I have to wait for a half hour for my next bus and my foot hurts.

Naturally my next train of thought is not to sit and wait at this stop, but to walk for a half hour to one of the stops down the road. And by walk, I mean limp. I reach down to brush off my knees when I realized I had two gaping holes in my favorite pair of black, skinny, J.Crew jeans. I could hardly walk (didn't throw up by the way, the fresh air made me feel a lot better) but I was much more upset about my pants. So the first thing I thought to do was to call Howie, who bought me the pants when I visited her in Chicago over Christmas. (Note to Jill: International calls from you pay as you go phone are expensive.) As I was hobbling along I thought to myself: this is a new low, even for me.

Once I finally make it home, at which time my foot is in a constant state of pain, I barely change into my p.j.'s and grab some ice packs to stick around my elevated foot and try to fall asleep. I wake up around six feeling like crap and a half, try to get out of bed to go to the bathroom and cannot. I had to crawl, yes crawl, up the stairs and into the bathroom. It felt so nice in there that I pulled a B.J. and laid down on the bathroom floor (thank goodness the cleaning lady had come the day before!). I realized that napping on the bathroom floor because it hurt too much to move, was definitely a newer low. I am definitely grateful the family wasn't here to experience this.

I've gotten to the point where I can put some pressure on it and kind of drag my foot, hunchback style, as I walk and I no longer need to crawl up the stairs (just hop and drag myself using the railing--it's really graceful I can assure you) so it's improving!

However, I am still upset about my jeans.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Thank You!

I don't say this enough: THANK YOU.

Seriously, thank you all (all five of you!) for reading my blog. It really makes my day when people tell me they read it. For instance when my uncles first started e-mailing me that they read it or commenting on it, it was such a pleasant surprise. And the other day I got a message from a girl I used to play off-season lacrosse with in Minnesota, she said she reads my blog (Hey Genevievre!) which really made my day. And one of my favorite people, CubScout, whenever he tells me he reads my blog it always makes me feel special. So thanks.

Thank you to everyone who reads this, even when it is nothing more than the contents of my purse.

Now back to lessons in rejection--i.e. applying for jobs.

Have a great Saturday!

Thursday, March 11, 2010


I have the utmost respect for teachers. They willingly work with children (forever!) and are actually responsible for making them learn. Terrifying.

While I never studied to be a teacher (there were a few years where I wanted to be a teacher but that was before grade books became electronic and I realized I could use felt tip pens without being a teacher...) I have found myself in the position a few times. Like the summer I was head of Arts & Crafts/Nature at a summer camp, I had to make up art projects and nature projects almost daily. Of course this was more of a testament to my creative genius rather than my artistic/teaching abilities because I usually just grabbed items from the camp supplies and made up a project on the spot (they were great, I swear!). I also did a "teaching internship" when I studied in Vienna which consisted of me, teaching four classes of six-nine year olds English--now that was terrifying. But I survived and have yet again found myself in the position of teacher.

I have taught Boy a few things, namely how not to be such a wimp. For instance he was lollygagging on the high dive at the pool this summer (thus infuriating the kids waiting behind him) so I told him to just jump, the longer he stands over looking down, the more afraid he's going to become. Also, whenever he starts to cry about how much less homework Girl has (he is in grade 3, she in kindergarten) I explained that he will always have more homework than her until he graduates college and she's still in school, so suck it up, stop crying, and do your homework. (Tough love by Jill.) Lastly, and perhaps most importantly in my anti-wimp training: Boy loves to dance. That's fine, good even. But what he loves to dance to? ABBA, Britney Spears, Lady Gaga... and that's fine, but the kid is asking to get beat up. So I'm trying to steer him towards more listener (i.e. me) friendly music like Lupe Fiasco and A Tribe Called Quest. We're still working on that last one...

What I've taught Girl I'm even more proud of. I have taught her to read. Well, sort of. She was perusing my iPod the other day and she said, "No not Womanizer, no not this song from Glee, ah! Taylor Swift!" (Note: This was Boy's playlist.) I looked at her and said, "G! You just read those!" Followed closely by, "Oh god the music on my poor iPod!"

I'm still working on the wave with T.B. but the other morning I taught her something of equal importance. I'll classify it under "social skills." I taught her how to stick out her tongue at some one who has stuck their tongue out at her. I sent Kristen this text message after achieving such a feat: "I just taught TB to stick her tongue out, I think my work here is done." But seriously, now she can stick up for herself because, nobody puts That Baby in a corner. (Sorry, cheesy Dirty Dancing reference, I apologize.)

Lastly and perhaps most importantly I've taught Boy & Girl history. Back in the summer we had to pet-sit for this [grossdisgustingrodent] guinea pig named Lola. So now, whenever I sing, "Her name was Lola!" They respond, "She was a showgirl!" Exposing them to the history that is Barry Manilow, now that's what makes a good teacher.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010


I forgot! The similarity that prompted the whole case study:

-When you rub their noses and/or behind their ears they fall asleep (true story).

Works like a charm... or is that just because I'm a baby whisperer?

-Also, babies and dogs are fascinated and terrified by the vacuum cleaner.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

A Case Study

I'll admit it: I actually kind of miss school. No, not just Denison and my friends but school school. Like reading and researching things (maybe not the "Holy &%$@ I have a 25 page paper due in 17 hours and I have nine pages written" things... not that that ever happened to me, Dad). In order to fill the void of my post-college schoolwork-less lifestyle I started a research project:

How Babies Are Like Dogs;
A Case Study
(The following is not actually how I wrote papers, meant to be a joke--despite most of it being true--and a homage to the one week anniversary of my dog's death.)

Having owned two dogs and pet countless others I consider myself somewhat learned on dog behaviors. Most of the following observations come from living with male Labrador retrievers for most of my life (Names: Buddy & Buddy Junior[BJ]--very creative with the names, I know Age: Oldish & Puppy-12.5. Proximity: A wardrobe of clothes with yellow dog hair should speak for itself). Having seen many babies on television, trains, in the street, and now taken care of one in particular for a few months I consider myself a novice baby owner. My proximity to a baby for this case study (Name: TB, Aged: 4-10 months, Proximity: Very close as I was usually holding her) allowed me to gain further knowledge on the subject.

Observations on the similarities between Babies & Dogs:
-It is socially acceptable and even encouraged for both to nap.
-Both will eat things off the floor, regardless of whether or not it is edible.
-Both enjoy being out of doors.
-Both can and will play with the same toy day in and out and never master it (take BJ's rubber thingy filled with peanut butter that is probably rotting in our backyard somewhere).
-When you leave both for an extended period of time (dog: more than a few hours baby: more than a few seconds) you need to find some one to take care of them, and pay them.
-Cannot leave either in a car on a hot July day, alone with the windows rolled up.
-No one wants to eat their food (except for Caitlin and her propensity towards baby food, but that's just weird).
-Both are acutely aware of when you are wearing nice clothes and will subsequently spit up on them and/or rub up against them thus dirtying your outfit. (Also noted, when in gym clothes neither will happen.)
-Both like to play "catch." Dogs with a ball or stick, babies with their babysitter and the food globules that they let out of their mouths during mealtimes. (Babysitter must attempt to "catch" said food before it gets all over said baby.)
-Both need to be toilet trained/house broken.
-Both have a tendency to eat furniture, especially wooden furniture. (True: Came in to check on TB during her nap this morning and she was gnawing on her wooden crib.)
-Attached when you leave the house and excited when you return (well not exactly BJ to me but to my mom, I used to say, "Mom's home!" and he would run to the backdoor to find her. That was a good trick! And TB isn't really attached either, but she does flail her legs out when I come in during the mornings. The only other time she flails her legs is when food is coming towards her.)
-One can't help but use a ridiculously obnoxious voice when speaking to a dog or baby.
-Both are always excited and willing to eat.
-Both become increasingly annoying when not fed.
-People do not appreciate a dog barking or a baby crying.
-People put up annoying Facebook photo albums of only their dog and/or baby. (Seriously, 97 pictures of your new dog? Even I have better things to do with my time.)
-A Burberry sweater looks stupid on both of them.

Please feel free to add more content, I'm still researching the topic, but I thought I'd give you my preliminary findings.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Going Somewhere?

So I know what you all are thinking: Isn't it time for another week of vacation for Jill? And yes, yes it is.

The Family gave me the first half of the kids' spring break off (because they will be in New York City). Originally I had planned to hit Croatia/Greece but last week I was talking to a fellow Pi Phi & Denisonian, Gill, messaged me about a vacation during that time. Gill is currently teaching in the south of Spain and suggested we take the second half of the week and go to the beach in Portugal. New country AND a beach? You know I'm there!

So Kristina, from the skiing fame of last weekend, and I will be heading to the south of Spain for the first few days and when she heads back to work I'll be heading to Portugal with Gill! The end of the month cannot come soon enough!

It's a difficult life, but somebody's got to lead it...

Sunday, March 7, 2010


I'm alive!

So after taking a break from downhill skiing in favor or cross country skiing (in Minnesota it's not really an option...) I thought I'd try it once again.

My friend Kristina's family has a house in the mountains and is currently serving a two week sentence (the Swiss call it "Ski Holiday") there I decided to come for the weekend in between. Saturday was cold and gloomy and not a particularly good day to ski. In fact, they closed most of the runs because it was too windy so we mostly hung around her house (where her children literally hung around/on us--the boy and baby were SO cute and the eldest... well that's another story!) and we went to lunch and the après ski, had dinner with her family and went back out in town. (In an effort to spice up our conversations with people we created fake names and jobs. Whether or not people believed us was incumbent on their level of intoxication but at one point a group believed that Kristina was a Canadian dolphin trainer named Dionne and that I was a famous motivational speaker named Cher--Clueless reference anyone? Everything I said they group would go, "Look! You're trying to motivate him!" Needless to say, these weren't the brightest guys...)

Sunday was a gorgeous day so we decided to try our hand skiing. The fabulous thing about skiing with Kristina is that we are at the same level (low) and didn't have to pretend that we weren't nervous about the foreboding hills up ahead. We head up the mountain and I click into my skis, that's when I tried to move à la cross country skiing--and it wasn't very fruitful. I realized that my affinity for cross country skiing had nearly killed my downhill skiing skills. As we first started down I shouted, "This is NOT like riding a bike!!!" But by the time we got to the first lift I felt a little more confident. And then not so...

This lift wasn't the kind where you sit with a person and put your legs on the bar, it was more of a tow-rope like they had on the Bunny Hills of Whitetail. Kristina got on no problem. I skied up and the worker handed me the pole with a little disc on the bottom and as I sat I heard him shout, "Nicht sitzen! Nicht sitzen!" ("Don't sit! Don't sit!") And the only thing I could think to shout was, "Kristinaaaa!!!!" So the rope stretched and I fell, but not before being dragged for a few feet. Wonderful way to reintroduce myself to skiing. The thing about embarrassment is it is so much more embarrassing if no one is there to share in your embarrassment. That being said, the Swiss worker did not even crack a smile at my spill, which made it all the more mortifying. I learned fast though, how to sit on those lifts.

The rest of the day was uneventful (my only fall of the day was on the chairlift!) and a ton of fun. I haven't felt this confident skiing in a long time and at one point we even did a run (because the one we wanted was closed and we had to) that had moguls! (I actually got stuck in one... So maybe the chairlift wasn't it for my embarrassment.) But they day was beautiful, the skiing a blast and the views were incredible. And of course, the après ski drink very good (and deserved!).

Pictures to follow.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Until Sunday

I was going to write a really funny post (per usual, right?) when Boy suddenly fell up the stairs and started howling. Literally.

So now we are leaving soon to go skiing (the family is going to the same town I am, but I'm going to meet a friend). So wish me luck and no broken bones!

Wednesday, March 3, 2010


Despite being technologically un-inclined I realize that I am heavily reliant on technology for most of my information, keeping in touch, et cetera. This morning, however, technology reared it's insensitive head.

So in the middle of my morning internet routine (GMail, Facebook, I sign onto Facebook and the first thing that pops up on my "Newsfeed" (which randomly generates and informs me of what my "friends" have been doing on Facebook) is the "status" (a sentence or so about your mood/what you're doing/opinion/whatever--something I haven't done/refuse to do) of my brother. Usually I just skip over the Newsfeed because it oftentimes just shows me what animal some one has bought or won or whatever on the stupid Farmtown game but this one was different because it mentioned our family. You know why it mentioned my family? It was about my dog dying.

I found out my dog died ON FACEBOOK.

(And not even on a message but on a flipping status! People who didn't even know our dog knew about it before I did.)

Sometimes, technology sucks.

Miss you BJ.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Another Reason

Another reason why I love TMoTB:

TMoTB: She looks kind of Asian, doesn't she?
Me: (Frantically wracking my brain for what to say because I do, think she looks kind of Asian, decide to go with honesty.) Yeah, she kind of does.
[Look at me, calling TB a she. Which she is by the way, most of my friends thought TB was a boy.]
TMoTB: I don't know where it came from, but let's hope she's good at math, too!

And today TFoTB (The Father of That Baby) proved himself to be pretty dang funny too:
TFoTB: (Waving at TB saying goodbye.) I'm trying to get her to learn to wave bye. I mean she's almost ten months and can't wave. She's definitely not going to be in the accelerated class, is she?

I love parents that know their kids aren't the best thing since sliced bread.

And here comes Boy from school. And he's crying already!

Monday, March 1, 2010

Conspiracy Theory

So a lot of my friends often inquire about my marital status, but no one is more interested in it than Girl. She is currently in love with love, especially teenagers in love, but since I'm sort of close the status of my love life is her constant obsession.

This morning at breakfast:
Girl: We saw you yesterday at Starbucks... with a boy.
Me: Oh really? Were you guys in Oerlikon? (Because I was, in fact, at a Starbucks on Sunday morning with a bunch of people.)
Boy: No, it wasn't yesterday, it was Saturday.
Girl: Oh yeah. Saturday. With a booooy.
Me: Nope, sorry. But I was with a boy on Saturday morning.
Girl: WHO?!?!
Me: Louis. (My French tutor's 15 month old son.)
Girl: No, it was definitely you.

This afternoon at the park, trip two: (Trip two because she had laughed so hard on the spinning thing that she actually peed in her pants, I guess I'm really funny. And yes, she is still my favorite.)
Girl: So Jill, who is your boyfriend?
Me: G, what are you talking about?
Girl: The one from Starbucks!
Me: That wasn't me.
Girl: No it was you, you were reading a newspaper with him.
Me: Was the newspaper in German?
Girl: Yes.
Me: G, why would I be reading a German newspaper? You know I don't speak German.
Girl: Well I think you just pretend not to speak German.
Me: Are you nuts?
Boy: Even my dad thought it was you. We were talking about you (?!?!) and then he saw you and said, "Oh, looks like she's here." But then you hid from us.
Me: It wasn't me. I promise!
Girl: I don't think so.
Me: So, what were you guys saying about me? (Kids are such suckers... Can't keep any secrets!)
Boy: Oh we were just talking about what a great job you're doing, how you're a really great au pair.

At least they weren't talking badly about me in front of my Swiss doppelgänger.