Tuesday, April 22, 2014
I don't divulge just every single mundane detail of my life here, but odds are, if you've been around here for a bit, you know that I'm a nanny after my workday concludes. Since December 2012, I've spent several days a week chauffeuring a then-three-and now-nearly-five-year-old dollface to and fro. L is this ball of effervescence--completely precocious and adorable, truly just the best kid. Our obsessions transitioned from My Little Ponies to princesses (and ALL things FROZEN) over that year and a half. I've made a lot of mac-and-cheese, braided her perfect golden ringlets countless times, and painted wriggly little toenails in the most vibrant of hues. I've dried tears, jotted down the hilarious quotes, and laughed a lot. I've watched her grow from a rosy, rounded-face cherub of a teeny toddler, to a loquacious, beautiful, willowy, thoughtful, hilarious little person full of more personality than is feasible for someone of her size. And our time together is drawing to a close.
Mom had baby #2 (a perfect twin of a little sister!) back in February, and they'll be hiring full-time help soon. I'm a little excited about the abundance of my impending free time, but honestly? I'm a lot more upset about what I'm giving up--namely, not seeing her precious face light up when we lock eyes on the playground everyday when I pick her up. Traffic for an hour isn't half-bad when you have a tiny comedienne in your backseat. I've never been spectacular with change, but throw a kid in the mix, and I'm a mess. At the risk of sounding completely hokey, it has been a total blessing, just watching her grow. I initially set out to nanny soon after I moved to Nashville as a way to love on a little person--my nephews, niece and cousins are growing up back home in Texas and I'm just missing so much. I thought nannying would keep me busy, and allow me the chance to help someone out, yes, but also do what I love doing and spend just a little of my time, soaking up the sweet innocence of a kid. I mean, is there anything more fun than just listening to the things a kid says?
Now that my hectic evenings are drawing to a close, I've already found myself hugging her a little tighter. I cling to her every word and jot it down to share with her fantastic parents. I feel so, so very fortunate to have had this opportunity to just be part of their family for this short time, and while I know it's not a forever kind of "goodbye," the shift in routine makes my heart ache a bit. I am thrilled for her assured love of and seamless transition to kindergarten, and all of the wonderful things that surely await their precious family, but right now, to put it in language she would use? I'm just sad.