k-bear is one year old - well, fourteen months, more specifically. and, as evidenced by the great fun we are clearly having in the photos, we like each other a lot. we are good pals, i would even say. we go way back - way back to when she was four months old, more specifically.
and, i would dare to even say she is the cutest child on the planet. now, i realize this is a very biased and general statement, so understandably, if you are a mother, grandmother, auntie, neighbor, foster parent, teacher, etc., you will probably disagree with me on this, and that is okay for you to think that the wee one in your life is the cutest, but since i am not a mom and have no other claim, and since this is my blog, let's just all get on the same page to un-complicate things and say that she is the cutest, for now. alright.
now, we all learn a lot from those mom-bloggers out there (when i say "mom-bloggers," i am referring to the entire spectrum - bloggers who happen to be moms, moms who happen to blog, and moms who are bloggers and blog all about being a mom, etc.). we get a sneak-peek into the restless, drool-y, throw-up-y and wonderful lives of these women and their sweet little families. sometimes, those blogs make our ovaries cry out of want; other times, these are the best birth-control we can get our hands on. same goes for being a nanny.
my figuring is this: how often does the world get a real life insight into the world of nanny-dom? because let me tell you, not all of our lives are quite the extremes of nanny-diaries-ish, nor mary poppins-esque. sometimes, but usually not. so.
i'm here to let you in on my typical, every-day work experience. gripping, i know.
when it comes to nanny-ing, the line between the best parts and the worst becomes kind of hazy.
for instance, i could literally roll out of bed in whatever i am wearing, get in my car without a glance in the mirror, and drive to work. i love that i can wear sweat pants and a pony-tail any time i want. i love that i do not have to concern myself with make-up, because, let me tell you, it will not impress k-bear, that's for certain. having said all that, this is also kind of depressing. because you can only be disgusting so many days at a time before you no longer feel like a human being- a girl human being, more specifically. you know, i enjoy the natural, effortless look as much as the next person, but sometimes, sometimes, i just, i just...i just need to, i don't know, brush my hair. or put on some mascara. and for the love of pete, i cannot even wear something nice if i wanted to, because poop, boogers, dirt, food - or all of the above, more likely - will inevitably soil my garments by the end of the day. and do not even think about wearing dangle earrings.
another perk. when k-bear naps (which, i am jovial to say is still twice a day) i get to do important, productive things such as, but not limited to: eating food for sustenance, blogging, crocheting my sister's christmas blanket (her 2011 christmas blanket....), and catching up on daytime television. what not to wear, say yes to the dress, dr. phil. can i get a woot woot? alright. now you are thinking, i am sure, that this is blissful and there is simply nothing to complain about. well, you are correct. there is actually everything to love about this.
when k-bear wakes up, it often coincides with snack/meal time. well, first i usually have the lovely task of changing a very smelly diaper. and THEN, then, it is food time. which she will sign to me. i ask, "k-bear, are you hungry?" and then she does the sign for "eat" which, i taught her! i taught her. and you know what else i taught her? signs for "more," "all done," and, drum roll....."please." please! i am making it ensured that she will be the politest child on the earth. this makes me feel like my education in asl was not in vain. anyhow, food-time means some cheerios, some cheese, and some delicious baby-food pouches. when i call them delicious, i am not even being facetious. those pouches of baby food are so good. i should know, because i sample almost every kind k-bear eats. if you are baby-food-curious, i highly suggest anything with mango, pear, or sweet potatoes.
in between all these necessary tasks, there is the most important activity of all: free time! free time includes toys, going on walks, and the occasional play date with e and her charge. because, you know, being roommates clearly does not allow us enough time together. k-bear loves books (she brings me books and signs "please"! oh, of course, i cannot refuse. let's read ALL the books!) she likes being scared and running away from me. and being tickled lots and lots. do not worry, she really is having fun when this happens. she laughs about it. so i chase her and then pick her up and we twirl and then i throw her in the air and then hold her upside down and - i am making it all sound so dangerous and unsafe, but it is okay, i swear. i do this all very responsibly.
there are not so good days, though. sometimes k-bear is not in a happy mood. which makes me not in a happy mood. sometimes i cannot do things exactly how i would like, because, well, she is not my child, and in the end i cannot make all the same decisions i would for my children (future children, that is). sometimes she does not take naps. sometimes she is teething, and let me tell you, if teething had a face i would punch it. sometimes the days are loooong. and boring. sometimes i just want an adult human to interact with. sometimes, and this will only start happening more and more, sometimes k-bear is a tantrum-y, bossy, my-way-or-the-highway kind of kid. and that just will not fly. it won't.
but the best parts are when k-bear gives me hugs. when she snuggles up in my lap for a story. when she waves bye-bye through the window every time i leave at the end of the day. and it makes me so happy that i have such an important role in the life of this little girl. and that she loves me, most of the time. and it usually makes all the boogers, and teething days, and tantrums worth it. but, you know, i also love that i get to go home at the end of the day. i'm not a mom here, people. not a mom.
