Nanny for New York's mega-wealthy reveals most obscene demands (2024)

A former nanny - who has counted some of New York's biggest billionaires among her clients - has revealed the wild excesses that happen behind the heavily-guarded doors of their multi-million-dollar homes.

In Wanted: Toddler's Personal Assistant, Stephanie Kiser lifts the lid on the kind of outrageous demands the city's most privileged parents make on behalf of their pampered children.

One mom even expected her to take drugs that would cause her to lactate - so she could breastfeed the baby.

'The mom didn't want to pump at work but also only wanted her child to drink breast milk,' explains Stephanie, 'so was seeking a nanny comfortable with induced lactation.

'She was hoping to find "help" willing to try things she'd read that might cause non-pregnant women to produce milk, like hormone-mimicking drugs or herbal medication.'

Stephanie wondered if the request was even legal, and took a hard pass. But the trouble with off-the-books domestic work like this, she says, is that it is entirely unregulated, so often anything goes when it comes to the job description.

And some requirements are more palatable than others.

One interviewer asked her: 'Are you comfortable doing errands in a Porsche? They're the only kind of cars we have.'

Naturally, the answer was 'yes.'

Aged just 22, and newly graduated, Stephanie grew to love the first family she worked for. She soon got used to standing at the school pick-up alongside Steve Martin, Drew Barrymore, and Robert De Niro.

But when it came time to move on, she discovered thealtogether more bizarre aspects of the industry.

A potential client she calls Mrs Robertson - who lives with her elderly former CEO husband in a $9 million Upper East Side apartment - was looking for a nanny to be her 'eyes and ears.'

'Nothing should happen that I don't know about,' she told Stephanie.

'We have one to two nannies on at all times. You will work five days on, two days off. The five days on will be live-in.

'While on duty, you will need to wake Frederick at 6.30am. Watch to be sure he has brushed his teeth, packed his backpack, and applied deodorant. The chef has his breakfast out at 7am, and he must finish the entire thing. He needs the nutrients for his busy day.'

Her duties would also involve ordering any clothing or toiletries Frederick might need, supervising his after-school activities, and ensuring he showered at night.

'You will tuck him in for lights out at 10pm sharp,' his mother instructed. But Stephanie's work day wouldn't be over quite yet.

'Once he's settled in bed, you and I meet to discuss his day. You should be taking notes throughout it so you can keep me up to speed on his moods, any issues, concerns. It's all about communication.'

She added: 'My son has recently started to rebel. He doesn't think he needs nannies anymore. He does not want them…'

'Oh, no,' said Stephanie. 'How old is he?'

Little Frederick was 17.

The job was paying $90,000 a year with a $25,000 cash bonus, payable after staying with the family for two full years.

'As I've said, my son doesn't exactly welcome his caregivers,' his mother told her. 'He can be somewhat, say, hostile with them. But that's why I implemented the bonus system. A sort of "survivor's prize" if you will.'

No nanny ever made it that far. Needless to say, Stephanie didn't take the job.

In yet another 'nanny audition' - for a judge and his germaphobe wife - she had to protect two toddlers from contact with the outside world.

Their clothes had to be washed immediately after they'd undressed.Neither child had ever been on a playdate, and the three-year-old had never had so much as a cold.

The children even took personal gymnastic classes to avoid being exposed to other kids' germs.

Stephanie trialed with them for three long days - starting at 6.30am and finishing at 6.30pm.

'When the mother asks me to please sneeze outside the apartment, I decide to move on,' she writes.

Her next adventure was with five-year-old Digby, a 'spiteful' child who pooped his pants every day. On purpose.

'He has been potty-trained for three years, uses the toilet when convenient, and is fully aware that this behavior is unacceptable,' writes Stephanie. 'But still, he keeps doing it, and his mother keeps making me hand-wash his soiled underpants.'

'He just is so smart,' his mom, Stefany, would coo. 'He can't stop whatever he's doing to go. He was so focused on his LEGO creation that he literally couldn't pause to go to the bathroom.'

But when Stephanie asked if she could just throw a particularly nasty pair of soiled underpants out, his mom barked: 'Absolutely not. These are linen boxers; do you know how much they cost per pair? Put them in the sink and scrape it.'

Digby had already been sitting in his poop for some time, and parts had hardened onto the cloth. Stephanie was instructed the 'correct' way to remove it was to scratch it off with her bare fingernails.

She handed in her notice soon after - and the nanny agency reacted with a resigned sigh.

'The last nanny we placed with them lasted even less time than you,' they told her. 'One afternoon she went on a lunch break and just never returned. Stefany thought she might have been murdered or kidnapped, but the girl told us she was fine; she just couldn't spend a single moment longer working for that woman.'

The family that invited her to work in the Hamptons for a weekend seemed a little more promising - especially after a Google search of her new boss, Mr Boyston, revealed he wasone of New York's 105 billionaires.

However, the conditions were even more punishing than her previous jobs - 24-hour shifts overfour days - and her final day in the Hamptons turned out to be the last straw.

She and the little boy were playing in the yard when Mr Boyston trotted up and asked his son if he'd like to go to their docked yacht, a five-minute walk away.

'The boy shrieks with excitement, and then the father calls out, "Felipe!"

'Within seconds a small man with tanned skin and broken English appears. "Yes, Mr Boyston?"

'Mr Boyston directs the staffer to bring a golf cart around. Felipe disappears, then suddenly zooms up and loads Mr Boyston and the boy onto the cart.'

He pointed down the hill at some invisible point in the distance and told Stephanie: 'The boat's down there. You just follow the path to the water. Just run behind and meet us there.'

Stefanie wasn't sure she understood, so asked if he meant for her to chase after the golf cart rather than simply ride alongside them.

'Yes,' he replied, 'so that you get there just a little after us.

'I can't watch him while I'm on the boat,' he said by way of explanation. 'I'm going to fish.'

Stefanie writes: 'I am 60 seconds into running after a fat billionaire and his baby when I decide that today is the last day I will ever see these people.'

Wanted: Toddler's Personal Assistant: How Nannying for the 1% Taught Me about the Myths of Equality, Motherhood, and Upward Mobility in America by Stephanie Kiser is published by Sourcebooks.