You Be You // I'll Be Me

Tonight I will sit and write, because I simply need to. While my body slumps with tiredness at this old desk by lamplight, I cannot help but straighten when I think of my 14 month old boss Jackson tossing and turning in his own sleep-state tonight. We fell in love this week. I should speak for myself: I fell in love with him this week. Hook, line and sinker. It took eight months of knowing each other to get here, but we have arrived. And today while he labored to breathe in my arms, those little goose honks coming in and out of his sick, wee body affirmed something new in me. I don't quite know how to articulate what it is exactly, but today I came away from my "job" with a new appreciation of motherhood, parenthood and more specifically for the mother of Jackson. How hard it must be to leave one's sick child in the care of someone else. While I am no stranger to that boy, I was not the one he needed today. He came down with a strong case of croup over night and it was quite a wake up call for all who love him dearly; the call being the fragility of life that is.

Being employed as a family's private nanny is a privilege I do not take for granted. It is the best job I have ever known and one I return to again and again. The two families I have worked with intimately in the past changed my life for the better. Not a day goes by that I don't think of Le Poulet or the Leopard Child. It took time, but we fell in love at some point too. We were not cut from the same cloth, these things take time.

For as long as I live I will not forget the feeling of walking with Le Poulet on my shoulders as if we were one. His trusting little paws resting on my head like a great hat. Or the way he liked the feel of wet concrete and how he taught me to appreciate the vantage point of lying down on a busy sidewalk in Montreal. Leo gathered energy from puddles in the back lane on Ruby and loved nothing more than sitting on the front stoop with a bowl of raisins and watching the world go by. I can't fathom the deep love one must feel for one's own. I do not have my own children, but today was one of those sweet, slow, hard, exhausting, worrisome days where I was given a good preview of what is in store for the mother in me. There were two specific moments in the day where that little creature communicated with me in such a fierce way without words or body language that I couldn't help but grin through my worry as we swayed together in the dark of his room. Jackson is an independent spirit who needs not a protective neck to snuggle into but today he found his way. 

Funny how swiftly the evasive mysteries of life tend to reveal themselves at the height of chaos. This work week has been challenging beyond explanation, but amidst the upset of the routine Jackson and I have carved out like a well-rehearsed dance, there was clarity. 

Strong love for another blonde boy not my own, clear as a bell. 

Strong admiration of a man whose mind never rests, clear as a bell. 

Strong sense of direction in a world that is always changing, clear as a bell. 

I have so terribly much to learn in this lifetime, it can become overwhelming when pondered too long. There is time. Everyday is for learning something new. Today I learned a valuable lesson about three year olds: check yourself before you wreck yourself. Around 8:45 this morning I became irrationally frustrated by the bullheaded decision of a boy named Lee to eat his granola out of a snack container intended for babies. Three year olds are not very rational creatures and he was incapable of grasping my exasperation over his flying mess of breakfast 2.0 that I would be responsible for cleaning up after he was finished. Eventually I realized I was fighting a losing battle with another kid not my own and gave up, instead envisioning how good it would feel to vaccuum that godforsaken carpeted dining room (??!!?) when he was fast asleep later on. BREATHE. WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT GRANOLA ON THE FLOOR. There's a baby over there that sounds like a goose, shift your focus. GET IT TOGETHER WOMAN. These were some thoughts I experienced today. 

These are minor things (though it felt good to put down). 

I am 28. As my friend Louis put it (well): it is an interesting and serious time.