I Love You

The other day Aurora said to me, "I love you." I leaned over to her and said, "A lot or a little?" She replied, "I love you all the way to Africa." I responded, naming one of her favorite countries, "I love you all the way to Russia." She said, "I love you all the way to Fitaly."

Fitaly is a made up country; Aurora and her dad created it. It snows all the time there, that's about all I know. When I think of Fitaly, all I can imagine is a winter wonderland, sparkling ice crystals over everything, twinkling lights, a beautiful, huge place.

When Aurora said "I love you all the way to Fitaly", I said, "All the way to Fitaly! I can't top that."

Aurora deadpanned, "Fitaly is the dining room."

Well, I guess I'll take what I can get.

More Quotes

"This morning I was lyin' on the couch like a little kid. It was so cute!"

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"I've never been to New York. I've never been to another country. But I've been to Maya's house."

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Nanny: Did you know I'm a stepmother?

Aurora: But you're not mean!

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Nanny: I'm going to set my timer. When you hear the church bells...

Aurora: Your phone makes church bells? That's ridiculous!

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Aurora: Ambibalent.

Nanny: What does ambivalent mean?

Aurora: It means you are, or you're not, that's what it means.

Death

Aurora: People die...when they get old and old and old. I will die. And then you hang out with God.

Miracle

I haven't told you the whole story about Aurora. Now I know that every nanny thinks their child is special, but in this case, it's really true.

Aurora was born at 27 weeks, and weighed 1 lb., 13 oz. at birth. She spent 4 months in the NICU and went home when she was a whopping 8 lbs. She was fed through a feeding tube till she was 3 years old. At 4, she's only been eating solid foods for a little over a year.

Aurora is a miracle child. She survived, against all odds, and has not just survived, but has thrived. She has no delays, plenty of spunk, and is smart as a whip. And she's deep, very deep. She's incredibly insightful, aware, organized, and sensitive. Sounds like I'm talking about a therapist, but no, I'm talking about a 4-year-old child. She's been through stuff most of us can't even dream of, so if she gets a little sassy every once in awhile, I'll take it.

She's a little sprite, and could stand to gain a few pounds; that's the only thing we're really working on. Mom and Dad have success. Nanny? Not so much.

Aurora reminds me a lot of myself. I was also premature; I spent time in an incubator. I'm little too, though I might gain a few pounds trying to get Aurora to do the same. We have similar dispositions; a little sassy, a little sensitive. Sometimes it's weird to be around Aurora and feel like I'm living my life over again. If I did have it to do over, I'd sure like to have Aurora's life, surrounded by love, support, and all the chocolate chip cookies I could ask for.

Home Invasion

You never know what situation you're going to walk into at Aurora's house. One time I walked in and Aurora was making all the people in her dollhouse "go to sleep", including the furniture. Go to sleep my foot! It looked more like a home invasion to me. Poor Grandpa!

House Song

One day Aurora and I were going to my house. She was in the stroller, and I was pushing her along, up a long block. We talk a lot about houses and which ones we like and why. This time, she started singing a song about each house as we passed it:

This house is made of rocks...(looking at a stone wall)

This house is kind and gentle...

This house has a porrrrch...

This house is so sen...si...ble...

This house is so special...

One time I couldn't hear her, so I said, "This house is what?" "Nothing!" She replied. Then went on:

This house doesn't have a porch...

This house is so special...

We should all take the time to look at our surroundings, don't you think?

A Bug's Life

Aurora doesn't like bugs. The first few days we were together, she'd cry out and flail her hands whenever she saw a bug, especially a flying one. I happen to like bugs, and don't want to encourage killing them, no matter how small. One time we saw some ants, and she screamed, "Aaaa! A bug!" I said, "Look at what they're doing! They're working, and just crawling around. They're just living their lives."

From that point on, whenever we see a bug, Aurora says, "It's just living it's bug life."

Flies like to "visit." Whenever we see a regular fly or a fruit fly, I tell her it wants to see what's going on. It's not going to stay; it's just visiting. It's living its fly life.

Works with whatever you're scared of or don't like. The other day, Aurora stubbed her toe, and the next day it still hurt. She was complaining about the pain, when she piped up, "My toe is just living its toe life!"

Children's Museum

I took Aurora to the Children's Museum a few weeks ago; we spent five hours there. What a blast! Aurora is quite independent, and interested in different things. She can play contentedly by herself for a long time. Sometimes I interact with her, sometimes I don't. I find that adults hover way too much over their kids, and talk WAY too much, all the time. As Aurora was playing, I observed and took notes:

In one room of the museum, there's a complicated structure with multiple levels and an enclosed net bridge. A sign clearly says, Notice--Climb Recommended for Ages 5 and Older. There are many children under the age of 5 using the structure. One kid missed a level and fell on the floor. One got trapped on the bridge and didn't know what to do. Why do people ignore the sign? It's there for a reason.

Aurora is very happy playing with plastic colored shapes. First she pushes away all the colors except for the yellow ones. Then she sees how many she can hold in her hands. Periodically she shows me. She watches what the other kids are doing.

The adults are talking way too much. "Should we do this? Should we do that? What will happen if we do this? What are you making? I don't think that will work..."

Just let the kid play!

Many caregivers try to get their kids to come and play in this room. The kids are not interested. One mom comes in with her 2-year-old. The toddler tries to pick up some blocks, and many of them fall on the floor. She moves on to something else. Her mom tells her to pick up the blocks. The kid doesn't. Mom threatens to take her home if she doesn't pick up the blocks. My goodness, the kid is 2! They're not thinking about cleaning up, and they shouldn't have to! Get off your butt and clean up the blocks, Mom, it will take you one second. If you have to threaten your kid for playing, I'd hate to think of what other threats you dish out.

Aurora moves on to big wooden blocks, the same ones we have at her preschool. I say, "Look, these are the same kind we have at school!" She picks up a square block and says, "Do we have this kind at school?" I say yes. She picks up another one, same kind. "Do we have this one at school?" Yes. "Do we have this one at school?" Yes. We go on like this with about 20 blocks. Her question is the same, my answer is the same. It's a repetitive game. It's fun. Kids like repetition. Go with it; what else do you have to do? It's a great way of staying in the moment.

We have a great time in the rest of the museum. Lots and lots to do.

Remember: Stay in the moment. Stay out of your kid's face and let him/her play, but don't ignore your child. Have fun!

Games

Aurora and I love to make up games. We do one activity called "Curbing." Curbing is when I let her walk along a safe curb like a balance beam. Not a curb on the street, of course, and not bricks that are lined up along someone's garden. A good curb for curbing is one that goes along the perimeter of a church in our town. The safest curbing involves a brick path that's at ground level.

 Another game we play is with these chains lined up outside of an elementary school. We notice the ones that go down low, ones that are all the way down, ones that are up, and ones that aren't there! We have to say how the chain is lying--"Down, down, down, up, all the way down, not there!" At the very end, the chain is twisted, so we say, "Twisted, not there!" at the end. It's fun, and sharpens our observational skills.

Library Talk

Today Aurora and I were at the library. She started to talk loudly, and I whispered to her, "Shh, we're in a library. You're supposed to be as quiet as a mouse.

She replied, "A mouse? That's ridiculous!"

Fancy Pants

On one of my first nanny days, I ran into a problem I had not experienced hitherto. Aurora and I were out and about, and I had to go to the bathroom. In my previous line of work as a teacher, I wasn't even supposed to touch children in some settings, let alone drop my drawers in a bathroom stall in front of them. This was ingrained in me.

However, we were in a crowded place, and there was no way I was going to leave Aurora outside the stall where anything could happen to her. I did the sensible thing and asked her what she did when her other nanny had to go to the bathroom. I said, "Did you go into the stall with her, or did you wait outside?" She said she stayed with her, so that was my answer. I took her into the handicapped stall, locked the door, took a deep breath, and dropped trou. She didn't bat an eye, and in fact looked quite disinterested. Whew, made it through that hurdle.

A few days later, after I was an old pro (I changed in front of her for swimming lessons, big deal!), we were in another public bathroom stall. This time, in a loud voice, she announced, "I like your underpants!"

Note to self: Stick to boring white. Stick to boring white. Stick to boring white.

Blog Title

Aurora has had a few nannies. There's always a time of transition when she has a new one, as she misses the prior one and gets used to the current one. My transition to being her nanny has an interesting component; I used to be her nursery school teacher.

The first three days I took care of her, she would, at some point in the day, gaze at me and say, "Why are you my nanny?" I would say, "Because you needed a new nanny and that seemed like it would be a fun thing to do, and I wanted a different job."

One time she said, "Why are you my nanny?" and I answered, "Because I like you." She said, "And you love me." "And I love you." Indeed.

That's how I came to choose the title of my blog. And also because my other ideas for titles were taken. Which has turned out to be a good thing, after all.

Trippin' Out

Aurora and I were waiting for the train the other day. We had to let one pass because so many people were waiting, and there was no room for us. I wondered aloud, "Where are all these people going?"

Aurora cried, "China! I repeated, "China?" 
"New York!" "New York?"
"India!" "India?"
We went on like this. The people were also going to Russia, Vermont, Spokane, Paris, and Texas. I wanted to be on that train.

I am a Nanny

It's official; I am a nanny. I am 44 years old, and have worked with children in one capacity or another for 25 years. I have just moved on from the preschool where I taught for the past 15 years. I wanted to slow down. I wanted fewer administrative duties. I wanted to write.

I didn't know I would write a blog about being a nanny. I got the idea from Jesus.

I take care of a 4-year-old girl named Aurora. Her name isn't really Aurora, but I had to come up with a pseudonym, and this girl loves the Disney Princesses so much, I thought it was fitting. And I happen to like Aurora better than Snow White, I've discovered. More on that another time.

Anyway, back to Jesus. Aurora has a toy Jesus in a manger, except she doesn't say he's in a manger. The first day I was her nanny, she said, "Here is Jesus in his car seat."
I couldn't just let that go.

And thus, "why are you my nanny?" was born. Thank you, Jesus.