Sunday, May 19, 2013

A special kind of person

I've been told, a lot, that it takes "a special kind of person" to be a nanny. When I ask why they usually respond with something along the lines of "because I couldn't do that!". But, I don't really see how that makes me "special". I prefer to say that it takes a certain kind of person to do it. The kind of person who loves children. The kind of person who doesn't mind poopy diapers, feeding fiascoes and epic meltdowns. The kind of person who enjoys art, teaching, kissing boo-boos, building blocks & tents, playing dolls, playing outside, the list is endless when it comes to kids & their imaginations.

Yes, I am one of these people. That, in & of itself does not make me special. It just makes me a certain kind of person who does well at my job. On the other hand, I'm the type of person who can't stand (I would say hate, but if Lily could read & read my blog she'd yell at me that "we don't say hate in this family".) history, math, science and most other "left brain" subjects. I could not handle a chemistry job, like Steve has. I feel my eyes glaze over and my brain start to melt when he talks about work (bless his heart, he still tells me about it though). I'd never have an engineer job, be an accountant or work in IT. Just because I can't do these things, does it mean the people who can are "special"? No, we just have different aptitudes.

I just happen to be able to work in a job that I love and that I'm good at. It's not a job that is cut out for everyone. It's hard. There are bad days, really bad days. There are days when all the kids cry at once and I daydream about what it would be like to work in the "real world" again. There are days when I'm out of ideas on how to entertain the kids. There are days when I'm at my wits end and want to cry. But there are a lot of normal days. And even some great days. Just like any other job I've had. And I would assume, just like any other job you've had.

Truly, when I think about the idea that it takes "a special kind of person" to do something. The only thing I can really think of is the men & women who put their lives on the line for us. Whether it be military, police or fire. And I certainly know that I don't deserve to be in that category.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

These Little Moments

Today, Steve took the day off work and we planned to go to the zoo. It was a wonderful family fun day. We saw the animals, rode the carousel, had lunch and even watched a 4D movie. Most of all, we spent time as a family. Lily loves the zoo and Adelyn is finally noticing the animals and really started to get into it; pointing at the animals and making "ooh ooh" noises at the chimps/gorillas. It was about as perfect as a day could get.

It wasn't the first time we've been to the zoo. We've had a yearly pass since Lily was a baby and go as often as possible. I know I'll remember these outings; these moments. Maybe not everything that happened today. But on a whole, I'll remember our family fun days. I'll be able to remind myself of certain outings with all the pictures I take (and it's no secret I take a lot of pictures!).

But, today I had a moment that I pray I never forget. It was just a usual moment. Nothing particularly special about it as a whole. I was giving Lily a bath, like I often do. I washed her up and was waiting for the water to warm up to spray the soap off her, which again, is nothing out of the ordinary. But, as we waited, Lily kept sticking her hand in the cold water and then backing up while giggling. It was in that every day, ordinary moment that I looked at my daughter and remembered all the baths I'd given her. In her eyes, in her laughter I was taken back to the last three and a half years of my life. Of our lives together as a family. In an instant she was a baby again, then a toddler and now the beautiful preschooler she's become. I saw all the hopes and dreams I had for her when she was born; all the hopes and dreams I have for her future now. And I wanted to hold on to that moment. I wanted to hold on to the un-mundaneness of such a normal activity.

These are the moments I want to hold on to. The ones so spontaneous, so unplanned. The ones where you couldn't possibly have a camera or camcorder ready to document. And even if you could, it would never capture the emotion of the moment. I want to bottle up these times and keep them forever.

One of my biggest fears is that I will forget. That baths will go on as usual and I won't remember the time we had today. That soon everything will be back to normal. I'll be frustrated. She'll be acting out. And all of that will wash away how I felt tonight when I was giving her a bath. But, tonight, I held her extra close. And tomorrow, when she's being a turd (and I know she will be because she's 3.5), I'll try to draw solace in what happened tonight. I'll force myself to remember that these moments don't last forever. The good or the bad.

Our lives are made in these small hours
These little wonders, these twists and turns of fate
Time falls away but these small hours
These small hours, still remain
~ Rob Thomas, Little Wonders