How Nannying Changed My Life

I never wanted to take care of kids. Well, that's not entirely true. I remember being in middle school and taking a Saturday class to learn how to change diapers, what to do if a baby is choking, and all the other baby-related information. I was going to be a babysitter and make some money. It was exciting. But no one ever called me. When someone finally did, I was over the moon! Babies can't be hard. They cry, the eat, they poop, they sleep, they repeat. But then the mother told me I'd be watching her son. Gulp. The only boys in my life were peers, my dad, and my brother who was 12 years OLDER than me. But still... it's not hard, right?

Wrong. I failed. The kid wouldn't stop crying no matter what I did, and I was so afraid to change his diaper, I ended up calling my mom to come do it for me. Needless to say, she never called me back.

The Fear of Babies 

To go along with my bad babysitting experience, I also had this intense fear of small babies. What if I drop them? What if I don't hold their head right? What if they cry and won't stop? What if they spit up on me? There were just too many "what-ifs" for me to be comfortable. 

I think also never having younger siblings, I never knew what to do with younger kids. By the time my sister and I were making friends, their siblings were able to talk and walk. I vividly remember my friend Laura in third grade telling me about her sister that was just born. Baffling! They were 9 years apart! What does a 9-year-old even do with a baby? Who knows. I still don't know. 

My dad, the 2nd oldest of ten, managed to have children either late in life, or around the same time as some of his youngest siblings, leaving me with cousins way older than me and some right around my age. If there were babies, they were upstairs with all the adults while we were downstairs in the old-smelling basement playing board games on folding tables. 

On my mom's side, my cousins were a year younger and a year older than me. When my uncle got married and started a family of his own, I was already a high schooler/college student. 

Seriously, babies in my life were few and far between. 

And Yet, I Nannied 

So you might wonder, how on earth did I become a nanny? How did someone deem me qualified to take care of their children... for hours on end? Good question. 

When my now-husband and I were planning my move to Boston after our wedding (he had been there already a year for school), we knew I needed to find a good job. But, alas, we were 45 minutes north of Boston, and good writing jobs were hard to come by that weren't downtown. And the idea of riding a train an hour each way seemed too absurd for newlyweds. My husband then told me that a lot of the seminary wives nannied. I scoffed. No way. Nu-uh. There's no way that would be worth it. Could you imagine? Kids screaming and crying and saying how bored they are and how boring YOU are. I couldn't even think about it. 

But when all other job options depleted themselves, I was forced to apply to nannying jobs. I'm not sure how many I applied to, but I know only one got back to me. A family needed a nanny for two kids. Two BOYS. One of them was under a year. Another gulp. 

They wanted to meet me in person, and because I had a great friend with buddy passes, I was able to fly out to Boston for less than 24 hours just to meet the family. 

Whatever was said, whatever was done, somehow they chose me.

My co-pilot 

I Learned About Family 

When you are a child, the only thing you know is your family. You know how families are "supposed" to run, what the roles are in families, how you should act with one another, how blood runs deeper than water, all that family stuff. But as you get older, you start seeing different types of families and different types of lives with different types of interactions. And nothing gives you a better idea of family then literally becoming part of one. 

I was in my nanny family's house 7-9 hours a day, with some date nights and overnights sprinkled in between. I learned nap times, tubby times, bedtime routines that seemed silly, foods they can and cannot eat, shows they can and cannot watch (and for how long), activities, and schedules. I learned about their time-out process and how you couldn't say shut up (believe me, I was scolded by the older one on several different occasions). 

Was it hard? You bet. This wasn't MY family and these certainly weren't MY children, but I was apart of it all — the chaos and the calm. For anyone who has never "parented" kids that aren't yours, you will know what I'm talking about. How does one act around kids? I wasn't sure if my role was the strict rule enforcer or the laid-back annoyed sister. I think I played both roles every now and then. 

These kids take baths? Everyday? That seems obsessive. Wait, they can only watch 30 minutes of TV a day? What about the rest of the day? What are we supposed to do (Note: my family lived on TV. Not that it's a bad thing, but it's what I was used to. So limited TV was a new idea for me). The ritual of putting the baby down felt odd to me as well. Does he really need me to sing to him twice? And he's a baby, why do we need to read books? 

But the funny thing is, once you become apart of a family, truly apart of it, you start to understand. You learn that the kids 1) get dirty every single day and 2) actually love taking a bath. It almost separated the times between dinner time and bed time. We all moved upstairs where we would end the night. While the oldest would go read a book in his room, the youngest and I would read together. You'd bond as you snuggled in the rocking chair as he wanted you to read the same book over and over. And guess what? He usually went to sleep pretty easily. The routines actually work! It was a miracle. And the oldest was a phenomenal reader, most likely because his parents were reading with him when he was just a baby. He was reading Harry Potter before first grade! 

He looks ready to get rough

I Learned Love

As I've mentioned here, and in other places, I had a fear of babies, and I certainly didn't like boys. Up until nannying I was convinced that I'd have an utter meltdown if I ever had any boys of my own. They spit and they pee on each other and the rough-house and they get dirty. There's no tea times or Barbies. There's no dress-up and nail-painting. It was a world I wanted nothing to do with. 

When I started nannying these two boys, the oldest only wanted to play Legos. I don't play with Legos. The older one told me exactly how to play with Legos: You build them (in a symmetrical fashion) and then you fight (you are always the loser, whether you're the "good guy" or the "bad guy"). Oh boy. And the baby? He liked to spit up. Frequently. Did I mention any type of throw up makes me gag? 

So while the first few months were a struggle, and I'm sure my husband heard more complaints than he ever imagined, I started to actually like these kids. You learn how to build really cool Legos and play games that the older one will find interesting. Also, people: Pinterest. Learn to use Pinterest. As for the baby, well, he became something else.

The youngest eventually won my heart. I grew to love him in this way that feels like you are a third parent and you want to protect him and love him to pieces. I got to watch him learn words, try new foods, start walking, experience snow and sun and sand. It's such a beautiful time to be apart of someone's life. His first words, his words that aren't words, it melts your heart. He had the biggest smile and the cutest giggle. He liked to play with trains and be outside and play in the basement. There were days where we ended up both crying or days where I just needed him to get buckled in the car seat, but you love them despite their screams and their tears. 

The oldest and I were a different kind of relationship, mostly because he was older; he didn't need me like the younger one did. But I learned to love him as well, his quirks while building Legos, his boredom when we were inside while Cole took a nap, his anger when I made him go to his room to calm down. And it was amazing to watch him learn from school and figure out reading, writing, and math.  He had a big heart and showed it. He loved giving his friends things — but he had to think about it for a long time on what he'd give them. He loved stuffed animals and being consumed by them in his bed. Some of my favorite times with him was right before bed when we'd cuddle and take turns reading from a dozen books. 

Brothers that love each other. Melts my heart

I Learned to Sacrifice 

There were some days that all I wanted to do was not be nannying them. It'd be too nice out, or I'd just want to be at home by myself. I wasn't used to having my day be solely focused on children. What if I didn't want to play outside? What if I didn't want to take them to the pool? What if I just wanted to sit and watch TV and let them do their own thing? But that's where sacrifice comes in. 

It's not about you. You have to leave your selfishness at the door and welcome both of them with everything you've got. I wasn't perfect, not even a single day, but I tried to be. I did my best to let Nate win at Legos, basketball, floor hockey, and whatever silly game he'd make up. I ran them all around town for all their sports and rarely took them to Target when I needed something. I kept them on a schedule even if it was easier not to. Sacrifice takes up all facets of your life. 

I Learned How to Parent 

Parenting always seems exhausting, especially when you're watching other people do it. From afar, it makes you think that maybe you should just stay married and have no kids. DINKS as we're referred to (Dual Income No Kids). My husband and I also don't have animals, so we can do anything at a moment's notice. It's refreshing and freeing. Absolutely no responsibilities. But I think we would be sad if we missed this part of life, the babies that grow up into teenagers that grow into actual living, breathing adults. 

Now, I know nannying is NOT being a parent. There are major differences that I'm well aware of. But what I learned from my nanny family will transfer over to when I raise my kids. They taught me so much and I'm still in awe of them. And again, not to say I haven't learned parenting tips from family and friends, but I was in their house every.single.day. I saw it all. 

The parents had found a way to work full-time jobs (which felt more like full-time and a half) with weekend photography commitments for the dad and work travels that took the mom all over the country. But they were still able to be at sporting events, at special school nights, home for the holidays, and able to take their kids on trips up to New Hampshire and Disney World. They were very present and also able to work and have down time. I think it's easy to get wrapped up in kids or work, but they found a balance for basically everything. It was inspiring. 

I'm sure they didn't feel perfect. I'm sure they felt inadequate at times when they'd miss something, or bad when the youngest was asleep before they came home. But hey, I say kudos. Kudos to making it all work and raising amazing children that had manners and love and empathy and compassion. Kids that knew the word no and that actions had consequences. Kids that loved to be outside and read and play make-believe. 

I am thankful that I nannied. In the beginning, I wanted to do anything but take care of kids. And by the end, there were tears when we left. I couldn't have imagined the love that I would feel for these people. Not just the kids but the parents (and the dog!) as well. My husband and I were welcomed into a family of strangers and now feel like we are apart of them. An extension of the family. 

I know I could never nanny again. It was too hard to let go and say goodbye. Not only did I stop nannying, but we moved back to Minnesota from Boston. It's like quitting a habit cold turkey. We've sent videos back and forth and we've managed to see them once a year, which I'm grateful for. 

Maybe not everyone's nannying experience is as special as this. Maybe this wasn't a normal situation at all. But I'm thankful everyday that it happened. 

Always,

A 

New Knitter Project 2: The Most On Point Hat Ever (Maybe)

This. This post I've been excited to write. Why? Because this knitting project was one of my favorites to work on for oodles of reasons. Granted, yes, I've literally only done two projects (and one that I'm still working on — one day I'll post on that big adventure I jumped in to) but this one had some love behind it. 

My first project, which I wrote about here and here, was a pretty easy hat that my friend picked out for me when she gave me my "knitting starter kit" for my birthday. It was the perfect project to start with. I was able to build self confidence in my knitting abilities, while also creating something that I like. I don't know about you, but when I think of knitting I think of pink doilies and baby blankets. Basically things that maybe my grandmother had made all of my aunts when they got married or had kids. Wherever that stereotype came from, knitting this hat crushed that. 

The Super Chunky Hat With Pom Pom 

So how did I end up making the Super Chunky Hat (with a pom pom)? Basically a dear friend of mine texted me one day after she saw my first hat and decided to come up with a business name that I could have for my future Etsy shop. That shop I hadn't even thought about or considered. It was super cute (I won't share just in case I actually decide to do this... and none of you can have this oh-so-clever name!) and we laughed about it a bit, but then she said, "Will this hat be discounted since I just came up with your business name?" And instead I told her that since she's now basically my business partner, she gets a hat on the house! She's graduating this month (You can do it! Get those A's!) and I thought it'd be a nice present to possibly encourage her through this week. And yes, I realize the ridiculousness of giving someone a WINTER HAT in MAY. But here we are. 

I scoured Ravelry for the best hats to make and trust me, it was not an easy feat. Did you all know that in order to pick out a pattern, you have to check the needle sizes (do you even own those size needles??) plus the yarn weight (is your yarn bulky or is it worsted? Or could it possibly be aran?) and then actually check out the difficulty of the project? 

Needless to say, when I first picked out some hats, I realized one pattern was in Danish, one was pretty pricey and one required sets of needles that I didn't even own! This, my friends, is how knitting gets to be more money than you'd ever think. So I ended up settling on the Super Chunky Hat because I at least owned one of the two sets of needles, plus it was cheap, plus it was very low on the difficulty scale. 

So soft. And the perfect color for the perfect person

I sent my friend a few pictures of yarn and we settled on this beautiful skein up above. This is the other reason I've wanted this hat from day one, the color is to die for! 

Here We Go Again...

When I finally picked the yarn and the pattern, I was ready to go — or at least I thought I was. But what I've also learned in this knitting process is that everyone writes their patterns a little differently. I had no idea. I thought it was just one language. No no, it's got it's own slang and everything. Once I cracked the code on the language, I was able to sit down and work on the hat. 

Then I hit my first wall. I mean, the wall besides trying to read the pattern. The real first wall was knowing how much extra yarn you want before you cast on. You want a certain amount of extra yarn so when you finish your project, you can weave it in throughout the pattern and keep it from unraveling. But I can never seem to get it right the first time. Every time I cast on the right amount of stitches, I'd end up with about an inch left and that was never going to be enough. So after 4 or 5 (or 6 or 7) attempts, I succeeded! 

Then, of course, I read the first few lines wrong and had to start over. This hat was giving me a headache, and it wasn't even anything that resembled a hat yet! 

These first rows were a pain in the butt, but it all becomes worth it when you see the pattern forming

When it was time to start a new round with a new stitch terminology... I froze. I had no idea what M1B meant! *Just so you know, it means you are adding a stitch, but in a weird way* Well, easy enough, I can just YouTube that! Now, my rant on knitters: They are oh so good about slooowwwllly showing you what to do, and then right when they get towards the end, or the part you really need to know, they become speedy Gonzales and I have to watch it a dozen times to understand what's happening. It's seriously every. single. knitter. It's maddening! 

If at First You Don't Succeed, Wait For a Friend 

I tried to mimic the YouTuber, but failed. I failed so bad I had to pull out all of my stitches and start over. What a nightmare! Defeated, I gave it up for a while until my friend, the knitting guru, could help me out. 

Ideally I wanted to finish this hat long before the coldness of winter dissipated into warm and rainy spring days. But that was just not a reality. When you only meet once a week to learn a new section of your pattern, and pair that with busy life schedules, it feels like a project will take you the rest of your life. But, I persisted. And it paid off! After countless teachings and one night of pom pom making, it was all set. I remember thinking that knitting was not for the faint of heart, but that only lasts for a moment. Even though it's not my hat, I'm absolutely in love with the pattern and the yarn. I need to make myself a matching hat just to have one for myself. Heck, my Etsy business should be just these hats! 

The completed hat in all it's glory! 

My friend keeps telling me that I'm brave when it comes to picking out patterns. I say I'm ignorant and don't realize that I'm biting off more than I can chew. But apparently with a lot of help, I can get through anything! I actually almost feel that I have to have an asterisk on my "creations" since I have so much help — it's like I have a top editor for hat making! 

Anyway, my friend ended up loving it and sent me a few pictures of her wearing her hat and eating pizza in her hat. So I'd call it a win. She didn't seem to mind the hat in springtime. Maybe she'll wear it to her graduation, ha! 

I'm not sure if anyone else has made a project that was a ton of toil but completely worth it in the end, but this was mine. Except you all should see the next project I want to work on... I'm basically signing myself up for panic and failure. Just you wait.

Always, 

A 

Another Day, Another Race: When You Hit a PR

Before I get started, I wanted to apologize to all my thousands of fans (er... three people that read this on the regular?) for being so sparse with posts. The month of April was dubbed "moving month" because my husband and I had to pack up all of our belongings, sell the stuff we didn't want on Craigslist, and continuously clean right up until the person came to check us out of our 1 bedroom apartment that we've come to know and love for the last 13 months. It was a sad day to give up our freedom and to move back in with the in-laws, but with the fall undecided for us, and the rent too pricey to pull a month-to-month situation, it was the right choice. 

Because we knew we had all month to move, we took it. We slowly packed the items we for sure didn't need and brought them to the in-law's storage space. My husband and I haven't quite decided if using the whole month to pack and clean was a good idea, or just stretched out the agony of moving. I will say, no matter how you move, moving sucks. I still hate it. It makes me think of the book Green Eggs and Ham. I do not like to move my stuff, I do not like to move it here or there, I do not like to move to anywhere. Or something along those lines — give me a break, I'm on the fly! 

But here we are, all moved in to the basement on a house on a lake, making for a boat-ful summer and long commutes. They should balance out... right? 

My Love for Gloucester 

So, over the final weekend of moving and cleaning, I thought it would be a good idea to run a 10K. I signed up through work months ago, and it's hard for me to resist a race that my company will pay for. I essentially get to run four races a year, for free. It's a pretty sweet deal. (Just in case you don't run races, races are hella pricey, but they usually give you a shirt or a beer or yogurt on a spoon. You can have my $50+ for all those kinds of goodies). 

This was actually the second 10K I've run in my life as a runner. The first, which was also probably my most favorite race, was the Lone Gull 10K in Gloucester, Mass. It's a beautiful race that has you running on a road directly next to a rocky coast and the ocean on one side, and giant, beautiful homes on the other. It's refreshing and you get to see some stunning architecture, followed by a walk on the beach when you are finished. It was truly a delight. 

I was nervous, but I was running with two of my friends from the seminary, and our husbands were cheering us on. It was hilly (if you don't know by now, any sort of incline makes me regret everything) but I ended up hitting the time I wanted: Anything less that 1 hour. I ended up running 59:44 so I win! They served us sausages and pancakes and all the happy breakfast things you would want. 

With a race that left such an imprint, I knew I wanted to sign up for another one. 

Get in Gear 

Fast forward a few years, and I'm about to run the Get in Gear 10K in Minnehaha Falls in Minnesota. Definitely doesn't compare to Gloucester. The weather is less ideal then I'd like, but I had my husband and his mom (and her friends) cheering me on, so that was nice. Probably my favorite part of the race was the fact that 90% felt like it was either flat, or downhill. That attributed to my success. Success in what you ask? I made a personal record (PR) that I was thrilled to make. 

The thing about this race was that there was no time to prepare. With the "moving month" in full force, there was no time to train. Luckily I've run 10 milers and half marathons, so a 10K didn't feel like it needed much training. I managed to squeeze in 3 mile runs and maybe a few 5 mile runs, but that was it. Apparently that was all I needed to achieve my PR. My finish time ended up to be 56:42, almost 3 minutes faster than the Lone Gull race! To top it off, they gave us medals and travel MyPillows! I hit the jackpot on this one. 

Me, pre-run. Clearly I knew I was bound for greatness 

I think what helped attribute to my success, besides the decline of the route, was the amazing playlist I put together. It kept me incredibly motivated and every time I felt like slowing down or walking, I was given a boost with a song that I knew I couldn't slack off to. If you need some music ideas, check out this blog I wrote about my top songs for a running playlist. 

We celebrated my personal victory by hitting up a delightful bakery called Honey and Rye Bakehouse. I munched on a chocolate croissant, paired with a vanilla latte — my personal favorite. Get ready to be jealous: 

It was just as delightful as it looks

My Next Race

I'm not sure actually what I will run next. Last year was my first half marathon — the Lake Minnetonka Half Marathon. It was beautiful and weaved you around the lake. And even though I told myself I'll never run a half again, I found myself desiring to see if I could make another PR now that I knew the course. But that's this upcoming weekend and I have plans that I need to not blow off. So who knows! The race world is my oyster... which one should I choose? Anyone have any suggestions they'd like to throw my way? I'm all ears! 

Always, 

A