Every day our little darlings pass through the hands of experts: the doctors, party entertainers, nit nurses, teachers and nannies. But behind the warm smiles, how do they really feel about our kids – and about us, the parents? Assured of anonymity, they reveal all

The nit nurse: ‘We never judge the children’

Our whole ethos is to make children feel comfortable, as if they’re having their hair done. We use a treatment to kill living lice and then dehydrate eggs using heated air. Then we nit comb and forensically remove everything. We need to see the kids twice, a week apart, because after the first time there will be eggs left over that no one can see.

There’s a narrative that goes around that everyone gets lice and there’s a weariness around parents of, “Oh well, everyone gets them,” but it’s very different if you are the child. People forget what it’s like to be a kid with lice. The child gets excluded, talked about, bullied. Mums try to protect their own children so won’t invite the child with nits to parties. It makes childhood quite an unpleasant experience. Most children who come to us have gone through all the products and they haven’t worked.

There’s a lot of emotion around headlice. We’ve seen kids with phenomenal infestations, their heads overflowing with lice. They generally don’t look well and are withdrawn. People are talking about them, avoiding them at school. After the first appointment, when they’ve had a big clear-out, it’s as if it’s gone, and they are a different child when we see them at the second appointment. They’ll be smiling, less peaky in colour, have more energy. We see a dramatic transformation.

There was a six-year-old girl who started to wince when her hair was touched. Her head was covered in nits, like a helmet and her hair was falling out. We had to shave her hair off. We also had a girl last summer who pulled off bits of her scalp from scratching so much. There were thousands and thousands of nits. We don’t judge anybody, we’re here to get rid of them and get these kids’ lives back on track.

We find boys are more needy than girls, more “mummy mummy” about getting their hair dealt with. But we see more girls because they have a lot of hair. We had a teenager who dyed her hair pink to get rid of her nits, but it dyed all the eggs, so when they hatched all the lice were pink.

Lice don’t like testosterone so adult males get them less, but that’s also because they tend to have less hair. We get plenty of mums with them.

Children are generally a strong reflection of the parents. If you have rude kids their parents will be rude as well. It’s one of the things I find very interesting about working with kids – they are so influenced by the immediate environment they’re in. We talk about it a lot.

The nanny: ‘Don’t let the dad take you home’

Facebook Twitter Pinterest ‘When the children act up the parents make excuses or blame you.’ Illustration: Al Murphy/The Observer

What they say about fathers I’ve found to be completely true. When their wives aren’t around or once their children go to bed, they often become inappropriate. I’ve been invited on family holidays by fathers and asked to come days before the children arrive. I always have to let them know I have a boyfriend when I start work to try to put them off.

My main rule is don’t let the dads take you home. I make a point of never wearing make-up on the job, never wearing gym kit. I look like shit when I’m working. But I think it’s the youth that men are attracted to. My friends who are nannies always get the worst reception at the school gates. Even when we rock up looking awful the mums give us death stares.

The richer the parents are the stingier they tend to be. I have some parents I’ve worked for for a long time asking me for “mates’ rates” when they drive around in Range Rovers and Porsches.

There was one family that I quit after a week. They were absolute horrors and the kid was completely out of control. Their mum was in complete denial. I spent every day trying to stop the cat murdering the pet rabbit which roamed the garden. The child was so malicious he was like Damien from The Omen and the parents didn’t discipline him at all. They thought he would grow out of it. Parents don’t punish their children any more, they make excuses or blame you when they act up.

The mums who work have so much more respect for you, they really value you. With the mums who stay at home, I think the reason why the dads pay so much attention to nannies is because they come home from work and see the nanny cooking, looking after the kids. The wife is upstairs hungover from lunch.

Mums that I work for have me because they know I don’t take shit from the kids and I know a lot of things that I shouldn’t. They confide in me, but at the same time they hate me for it. They tell me about their relationships with friends and how they’re not sleeping with their husbands any more. They all seem desperately unhappy.

With the kids, you notice their innocence is taken away from them so quickly. They’re all on Instagram from 10 years old – and they have boyfriends from year five. There’s also so much bullying on social media. I can hear them fighting with each other on Instagram Live and Snapchat. Then they won’t go to sleep because they’re so stimulated by their iPads and phones.

The nursery assistant: ‘The girls are easier to handle’

Facebook Twitter Pinterest ‘I asked him where he found it, and he said: In my pants. Then he went and put it in the toilet.’ Illustration: Al Murphy/The Observer

I always imagined I’d be working with cute kids who didn’t speak that much, but two- to five-year-olds are completely exhausting – they do not stop talking. One of the three-year-olds was playing in the sand pit last week and told a mosquito to “Fuck off!” We had to have words.

The girls are definitely easier to handle; the boys can be a bit disgusting. Last week a little boy came up to me with a massive turd in his hands. I thought he’s just picked up a fox poo or something, so I asked him where he found it, and he said: “In my pants.” Then he went and put it in the toilet.

The biggest part of my job is changing nappies and cleaning them up after they poo themselves. The worst thing about the job is probably when the children hurt each other. I’m always shocked by how malicious little children can be. The boys are so much more aggressive than the girls – not all of them, but it’s definitely more prevalent. Girls tell the teacher, boys attack each other. Also it’s interesting that boys and girls are as vocal as each other at that age.

The parents can be challenging. They accuse us of losing the kids’ things and get very overbearing about what we’re feeding them. Having said that parents notice a massive improvement in their children’s happiness when they come here. The kids don’t want to go home.

The children’s entertainer: ‘I’m competing with their phones’

Facebook Twitter Pinterest ‘I can’t risk hugging the kids. I’ll give them a pat, but it’s quite scary to be honest.’ Illustration: Al Murphy/The Observer

There’s always one naughty kid at each party who ruins it for everyone. When you’ve got a group of 20 kids there’s always one or two who want to be the centre of attention.

The thing I like about working with kids is they ask you the most ridiculous questions. Everything has to be explained. I get asked: “Why are you standing up?” and “What are you going to do?” They always want to learn, but it does get annoying, especially if you’re hungover or tired. Sometimes, when they ask too many questions I just ignore them.

Kids like to do strange things. Quite often they’ll just shout or do silly things. I had a kid a few years ago who halfway through singing and dancing pulled his trousers and pants down, which is quite an awkward thing to deal with as an entertainer.

As a male entertainer one of the scariest things is being left alone in a room with the kids. If any accusation is made against us our careers are ruined. If the kids want to give you a hug, or ask to go to the toilet, or they’re all hanging on to my leg, it’s very scary for me because I can’t have them do that. I’m paranoid that the parents could take it the wrong way. Disney had a case a couple of years ago where Tigger was in a picture with a grown woman and she complained that Tigger had his hands on her bum. So now all the characters have to have their hands visible in every picture. Presenters like Rolf Harris have ruined it for our industry. I can’t hug kids; I’ll give them a pat sometimes, but it’s quite scary to be honest.

When I worked in Santa’s Grotto we used to get kids as young as three asking for iPhones and very often they’d get them. I think the worst thing with kids these days is their obsession with technology. As a kids’ entertainer I’m constantly competing with video games and toys. It’s sad, but they’re just not interested in magic tricks when they have their own Nintendos. I did a six-year-old’s party a few months ago and when I was trying to do my routine all the kids marched off upstairs to play on the computer. When I went upstairs to get them one told me to fuck off because they wanted to play on the Wii. These days all parents can do to punish kids is take away their computer or the internet. Any discipline is frowned upon. If a mother shouts at her child in the supermarket she’s embarrassed, and if she hit a child she’d be arrested.

The private tutor: ‘A lot of the kids are spoilt’

Facebook Twitter Pinterest ‘Two kids I tutor have cameras in the room. the parents don’t tell you.’ Illustration: Al Murphy/The Observer

I often think it’s ridiculous how much money I get for a job that almost all parents could do. I teach the 11-plus exams, or the 8-plus exams to children whose high-powered parents aren’t UK nationals. It’s all online – I just Google it, and print off sample papers. I also get £40 an hour teaching five-year-olds English. I teach eight of these sessions a week at £40 an hour and the kids always go to the loo for at least 10 minutes during the lesson. I worked out I get £30 to wait for a child to take a shit.

Two kids I tutor have cameras in the room, and the parents don’t tell you explicitly. I have some parents who haven’t told their kids that I’m a tutor. They say I’m a friend because they can’t let school find out the child has a tutor. But then they want you to follow a syllabus, which is hard when you’re pretending to be their “friend”. A lot of the kids I teach are very spoilt. The parents are only there from midnight to 6am because they’re at work and when they see the kids they don’t want to tell them off for something they did four days ago involving a tutor they haven’t met.

The nicer kids offer me coffee and treat me like a person rather than staff. Kids find it very odd that I have a boyfriend who isn’t my husband. Parents get awkward about it as well. The kids with divorced parents are more grown-up.

I tutored an eight-year-old who didn’t pass his 8-plus exams, and a lot of his friends did. He would say things like: “What do I need to do to succeed?” He reiterated things that his teachers and parents said.

The social worker: ‘They always teach me the latest lingo’

Facebook Twitter Pinterest ‘Often there are some real hard nuts to crack, but we never give up on the kids.’ Illustration: Al Murphy/The Observer

I deal with kids from 0 to 18 years in all areas of child protection, so I work with kids in care and also those at home with their families. I am always shocked at the extent to which poverty and deprivation lives next to extreme wealth. People just aren’t aware of this. Working with young people and the police in these communities, I really doubt the politicians have any understanding of the experience of young people. I work with a lot of teenagers who don’t want to go home and I’m trying to be the middle man between them and their parents. It’s like having responsibility for a difficult child, with all the worry and sleepless nights about making sure they are OK, without all the benefits of being their parent.

I also work with young people who are associated with gangs. They teach me quite a lot about what is happening “on road” as it’s called. I’m learning a lot more from them than I’m ever teaching them. They teach me all the latest lingo, most recently a whole host of words meaning blow job. I try really hard to not listen when they talk about these things, but I can’t help it. They always try to improve my street cred, introducing me to new grime artists and when they give me a compliment on my outfit I’m never sure whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing.

It’s difficult to know whether the involvement you’ve had with a family has made a difference, because you never find out what happens to them. I often look back and think about the babies I have placed in adoption and wonder whether it was the right decision. Are they happy? I’m sure we make a lot of mistakes, but you never know what the future holds, so we’re just hoping that what we’re doing is making a difference in ways that we will never know.

Often there are some real hard nuts to crack, but we never give up on kids. I often get exasperated with some of the younger teenagers when I think they have huge potential. That’s often when I’m most honest with them. I say: “I believe in you so much, why are you doing this to yourself? Why are you purposefully messing up your life?”

I also get hugely frustrated with the parents, because I wonder what on earth they are doing. A big part of the job is discussing parenting with parents. But what I’ve noticed is that, regardless of background, in some ways every family is the same – children are the most important part of parents’ lives and kindness prevails.

The lecturer: ‘None of us wants to fail a student’

Facebook Twitter Pinterest ‘I often have parents call me up and I refuse to talk to them: their kids are adults.’ Illustration: Al Murphy/The Observer

In this field you’re perceived to be an expert, but there’s no such thing. If you’re a day ahead of the students you’re the expert – and you’d be surprised how many lecturers feel like that.

When I started I could be a bit rude. I wouldn’t let students get away with talking or taking the piss. I would just stop the lecture and tell them to “Shut the fuck up” and everyone would go completely silent. You couldn’t do that now, you’d probably get reported.

The worst thing is cheating. We have to kick out third year students who have been caught after all their hard work. Students come to you begging and crying and it’s soul destroying and you feel for them, but there’s nothing you can do. There are only two answers – cheat better or do the work. No matter how annoying the student is, I cannot envisage any member of staff, even the complete wankers, ever wanting to fail anyone. It’s a reflection on themselves.

I often have parents call me up and I refuse to talk to them – their kids are adults. Intelligence has nothing to do with life, it’s about application. If you see someone trying to do well but failing, you do try to help. If you see a student who is a complete smart arse and puts zero effort in, you don’t give them any help. You don’t give a shit about the ones who think they are super clever, because in life there’s no such thing as super clever – it’s only in that person’s mind.

The volunteer boxing teacher: ‘It gives young people hope’

Facebook Twitter Pinterest ‘There aren’t many clubs where Muslim kids mix with the local white and black kids.’ Illustration: Al Murphy/The Observer

Boxing tends to attract a lot of angry young boys, misfit kids. The club gives them a structure that they haven’t got at home and they feel quite cool doing it. People in the sport who do well are people they don’t mind admitting they like. Look at Anthony Joshua or Muhammad Ali – they look like comic-book heroes.

A lot of young people who come to the club are from housing estates in the surrounding areas where there’s knife crime, drug-related activities and things that can steer you in a dark direction. A boxing club, relatively speaking, is a pretty safe place to be. The worst you’re going to get is a bloody nose. If you’re hanging around a housing estate at 2am you’re probably going to encounter far more severe things.

The motivation for me is that it’s giving a lot of young people hope. We do simple qualifications with them in nutrition, health and safety, time keeping. They are general life lessons in how to conduct yourself – basic stuff that they may switch on to in a different environment.

The hardest part is when you can see that a kid has a lot to offer, but you can also see them thinking that they’re not very good. We want to give them a sense of their own self-worth. A lot of them think they have to get results quickly and that probably comes from status anxiety.

It’s a mixed club. We have Muslim kids, white working-class kids, Afro-Caribbean kids. We have a lot of Bangladeshi Muslim boys in our gym and without slipping into cliché they are really hard-working. They will do a part-time job, boxing three times a week, four A-levels and seemingly balance that pretty well. Then we have some white working-class lads who are not doing very well at school, who are more angry – an anger that they should be getting more than they’re getting. A lot of the foreign kids feel more grateful for the opportunity. You get a sense that they’re more respectful of education and have to work bloody hard to give themselves a chance.

We’ve had to step in recently with social media stuff that they get into. One of our 15-year-olds started posting right-wing anti-Muslim propaganda on his Facebook page. I don’t think the boy actually knew what he was doing – he didn’t know anything about Britain First. But it’s insidious how they hook these kids up with this stuff. We’ve had to step in a couple of times with racial stuff. There are not many sporting clubs where you would get a lot of Muslim kids mixing closely with the local white kids and the black kids, so this gives them all an opportunity to have a neutral ground.

The author: ‘The key is not to talk down to them’

Facebook Twitter Pinterest ‘Then one kid at the back started giving me the finger. He was about seven.’ Illustration: Al Murphy/The Observer

Being a kids’ author is a dream job. I feel like I’m cheating at life because I spend my days drawing and get paid for it. I spend half my year sitting in my shed in the garden drawing and writing and the other half at schools meeting kids.

It started by reading books to my children at night and thinking: “I can do better than this.” I just sort of had a go. I had no idea how competitive it was writing children’s books – everybody says you can’t make a living from it unless you’re JK Rowling. But that’s turned out not to be true.

I like being around kids. I think the key is not to talk down to them. When I see children in a school, I’m the fun part. They spend the rest of their day doing times tables, so I am a bit of light relief. If someone is being naughty then the teachers police them, so I’m never the bad guy. It’s a bit different when I do literary festivals. Parents take it as an opportunity to down tools and stand at the back chatting over a coffee. So I have to maintain order and that can be quite annoying. I can’t tell someone else’s kids off.

In the main the children are really good. Once they see I can draw they respect me and want to be my friend. Sometimes one of the kids will break away from the line and hug my leg and tell me they love me. It’s very extreme emotions that they display, which is funny – they’re just these pure little souls.

Sometimes, however, the kids will stand up and announce that they’re bored – they don’t sugar coat it. They have no filter and don’t care what you think of them. Once, when I was at a school to do a reading, I was standing at the front during assembly with about 300 kids in the hall, and was introduced by the headteacher. Nobody, apart from me, was looking out at the children. Then one kid at the back started giving me the finger and mouthing “Fuck off!” He was about seven. It was at the beginning of my reading and I got completely tongue tied. I didn’t know what to do, but I didn’t want to grass him up. Then, at the end, when the kids were asking questions, his hand went up, so I thought: “Come on then, what are you going to say?” But he asked a perfectly normal question, so he’d obviously become engaged at some point. It’s funny when that sort of thing happens but it really threw me at the time. I just remember thinking it was a very clever way to be naughty, because no one could see but me. That said, towards the end, I did see him getting yanked off to the side by one of the teachers.

The primary school teacher: ‘I have to be a carer and social worker’

Facebook Twitter Pinterest ‘A lot of children cry when they change years and have to say goodbye.’ Illustration: Al Murphy/The Observer

My first job was in a big primary state school in west London. Nothing had prepared me for the roles I was expected to fill: teacher, social worker, carer and support network. A lot of my pupils were latchkey kids, their parents working day and night. One little boy didn’t even get a key, so had to climb through a window to get into his house after school. They craved adult attention because they literally didn’t see their parents.

A lot of the kids would get terribly attached to the teachers. Others had issues because their parents were addicted to drugs – some kids had been born addicted to drugs. A lot of them needed a firm hand because they would be rude – nobody ever told them off and they didn’t have any work ethic. But it’s worth it because you see how much they appreciate attention and progress. A lot of children cry when they change years and have to say goodbye.

I think the whole system in this country is so unfair. We don’t put enough money into schools. Teachers here are hugely undervalued. The real brains don’t even want to go into teaching, or can’t afford to. A lot of my colleagues have moved abroad for a better quality of life. Some have gone to Germany, Spain, Singapore and international schools, because the wages are fairer. The ideal system would be for kids go to their local school and get a good education. Sadly it doesn’t work out that way.