I keep wondering when self discovery stops. I guess I keep thinking that at some point I will have arrived. Arrived where, I have no idea. And I'm beginning to see and understand that the discovery and learning and reminders never end.
A constant in my life has been children. I started babysitting at 13. In college I moved in with a family that had 3 boys-5, 3, and 5 months. During my time in their home they added another. I watched kids for their bible study groups. My job description was Child Care Coordinator (essentially I was head babysitter). I was hugely involved in the kids ministry at my church in Auburn. I was an "actor" in their family ministry and taught elementary school kids until I moved here to Seattle. I spent all my high school and college summers serving as a camp counselor and kids ministry intern at my home church.
Seattle is no different.
I am one of 4 people on the Kids Ministry Leadership Team and my job is a nanny (3 hysterical kids. B is 3, E is 2, and N is 5 months).
Kids, to me, are so easy.
You just talk to them. You make them laugh. You pay attention to them. Being a nanny is a lot about predicting the future (I'm sure being a parent is the same and maybe more so). But you get to know this little person and you know what they like, don't like, what makes them lose their mind, what makes them so happy, what will make them too crazy, what calms them. You can read them so easily because all their emotions are written so clearly on their face. And you just pay attention to them. (Granted, I have been around kids for a while, so I've picked up some tips and tricks over the years that I didn't even realize that I'd learned. It almost seems natural that I fell into this job.
So so often though, I forget what a huge blessing they are. And what a huge encouragement.
I often look at my job and see the boring, the mundane, the same thing day after day after day.
I say the same things 500 times a day.
At the end of the day, I both long to talk to an adult and I want complete and utter silence.
I'm exhausted. But when I look back, I can't think of anything that I really did. There is never really any sense of completion. Nothing is ever done, because the next day I'm going to do it all again. I will have the same fights with the kids, answer the same questions, offer the same explanations, change more diapers, make more mac-n-cheese. It's like the movie Groundhog Day. It never ends.
I also don't have all the say in the child's life. I get to spend tons of time with them. Learn them. Walk with them through some of the hardest ages (3...) and then when they get to the easiest, they leave me.
I compare myself to the moms that I nanny for. They have these hugely successful careers. One won an Emmy! The other just got a job promotion that only seven other women in the whole country has. I can't compete with them.
So I question the need, the validity, the worth of what I do. Even who I am, because that's tied to this job in some way, right?
The last couple of days have offered such a different insight into my life as a nanny. I did change a million diapers today, I did spend the majority of my day explaining to a two year old why you pee in the potty and not your panties, and eventually I did fight with a hilarious, headstrong 3 year old and I answered every single 'why?' question he threw out. But something was different all day.
I found myself looking for sweet moments. Moments I could remember and mentally save.
Lauren (sweet friend from church) recently told me that my job is precious. That I'm entrusted with lives at crucial moments. I take for granted the trust they have when they run to me while physically or emotionally hurt. I forget that I have this huge job to teach and train them to be beautiful, responsible, loving people. Will I shape their entire life? No. But my every word and action has the potential to speak truths into their little souls even now at 3, 2, and 5 months.
E has been saying back to me things she hears and it's been such a sweet reminder.
Last week, on the way to B's it was quiet in the car and then she said, "I'm worried about you."
Me: "Me? You're worried about me?"
E: "Yes."
Me: "Who said that to you?"
E: "Momma. She said, 'E, I'm worried about you.'"
Quiet again in the car.
E: "Sissa, I'm worried about you."
Me: "Thank you, but I'm ok, you don't have to be worried about me. But thank you."
Then Friday I picked her up so that we could move quickly up the driveway and she said, "Sissa, you're the best."
That same day on the way home, she said, "Sissa, you're terrific!"
Me: "No! You're terrific!"
And we playfully argued back and forth about who was really terrific. By the end of it, I felt like I may actually be terrific. It was the sweetest.
The last one and my favorite one. I'm with her this weekend as her parents are in LA. She developed a terrible rash which turned out to be hives. While at the dr's office, I was leaning down helping with her pants and she sweetly said, "You're beautiful."
I was definitely not beautiful. I hadn't showered while she napped because of her rash and swelling, I wanted to be close to her. My hair was dirty, face oily, clothes rumpled and overall just gross. But she said I was beautiful. It was great to hear someone say that, so much encouragement. But more than that, it reminded me that every word I speak she associates with something. Being intentional with my words around those 3 is so important.
So, I'm often sad and feel lost and displaced. But today, I am so thankful for the opportunity to love those amazing children well. I am called to this TODAY.
Here are a couple of sweet pictures with those girlies. Missed the big guy that day while he was at school but I'll get him in a picture soon.
