craving solitude

Monday, September 28, 2015

To be honest, there's a lot I miss about nannying.

Being a nanny is, naturally, impermanent. Kids grow up and there is no negotiating your way out of it. Granted, that's what we all look forward to, right? Kids being able to pour their own drinks, put on their own clothes, wipe their own asses. But then they go off to school and become little humans on their own and no longer need you. All the difficult parts of taking care of small children fade away, rendering you useless and wondering what happened to that little baby who was such a pain in your ass.

I think I enjoyed the comfort of not being settled while being a nanny. Because nannying is so temporary, it was a cozy little cocoon of "this isn't forever and is just a time-filler before my greatness begins." And my greatness really has begun. But now, glancing outside of my office window at the quick-rolling fog along the coast and the last of the swallows diving between buildings, I miss the nostalgia of being a nanny. Watching my own childhood movies with a new set of eyes. Exploring a new city with a new baby on my hip and longing for the future. The future is here now, that baby is a big girl, and I'm living my dream life without that fresh set of eyes.

It's hard to not romanticize my 5-year career of ass wiping, but I know that even then, I would watch the clock until I could go home. And I couldn't wear $200 Anthropologie jumpsuits when I was a nanny. And most of my conversations where exponentially dumbed-down for children... oh, wait. I still do that.

My job is fine and affords me a life I dreamed of for so many years. But man, what I wouldn't give to just be in leggings and a hoodie, watching Cinderella for the 500th time with a new person on my lap. Counting my dreams again and complely wasting time.