Monday was my last day as a nanny for Little Bird. Leaving that job was the hardest part about accepting a new full-time job; something I had been looking toward for months. I stalled on telling her parents until my offer letter on the new position was signed. I still haven’t technically told Little Bird, but I think that’s okay. I’d probably just cry and confuse her. I’ve cried before while holding her, after a boy bruised my heart a little bit. She let me hold on tight for a minute, then looked up at me, seeming to be confused that grown ups cry. Yes Little Bird. We get hurt too, on the inside and on the outside. Just like you.
I’ll get to see her again. My new job is close by her home so I already have claimed dibs on future babysitting needs.
Our last day together started differently than most. The traffic angels were on my side so I made it to the house early, then Little Bird took a nap for over two hours instead of the normal one. When I finally heard her talking upstairs, I was thrilled to put down my book. My post-nap routine with her has gotten very regular: “Good Morning,” some “talking” through the crib walls, a change of diaper and clothes, and getting her to “help” me turn out the lights before we go downstairs. After months she does actually move the light switch for me; for most of our time it was more of a smacking motion toward the wall.
Lunch time for both of us and then a walk to the park for some loops around to see the dogs and other kids, plus a long break on the swings. Since school is out, there were a lot more kids and grown ups there. Little Bird waved to all of the kids whooshing by. And shouted at dogs passing, in hopes of getting their attention too. Smart Miss Meg packed some crackers for the ride back home. Then an even smarter idea came: playing with the water table on the front porch to wash off all those cracker crumbs. I didn’t have any smart ideas for how to tackle to now soaking wet clothes, but a quick scoot up the stairs and back meant a cute and dry replacement outfit.
Little Bird, at only 1-year-old, has a personality all her own. She is smart, funny, stubborn, loving, curious, and aware of so much more than I can see. In our eight months together, I’m proud to have taught her how to turn off the lights, high five, and I was super close on jazz hands. And I’m grateful that she gave me so many chances to just be.
Love you Little Bird. Always and forever.