Some days, I feel a bit disillusioned with my career path. I mean, I'm sitting on a BIG ol' stack of student loans, and I'm a nanny. A NANNY. Don't get me wrong - I adore my job. The thought of S, the youngest, going to Kindergarten in two years makes me tear up already. I LOVE LOVE LOVE my job. But with the student loans I'm buried under, it's frustrating to think that I'm *just* a nanny. Sigh.
Enter storytime this past Wednesday, and an oh-so-welcome reminder of something.
I take A to this great storytime that I love. In fact, I'm concerned what it says about my social life that I look forward to it all week long. This past Wednesday, I walked in, holding my passed out baby in my arms (she's just this week started staying asleep when I take her out of her big girl carseat - thank you Jesus!). I was welcomed by the usual gang of moms, who I've gone to know and like, and know their little one's names and ages and developmental landmarks of note these days. I love that about Wednesdays. Anyhow, there was also a group of college-aged guys and gals in chairs in the back. The woman who leads the storytime, Elizabeth, pointed them out, letting us know that they were HDFS students (one of my own degree plans: Human Development & Family Sciences) that were going to be sitting in on our time and taking notes.
I used to be one of those students. I diligently attended storytimes, shadowed the Master Teachers at the lab school in the 3- & 4-year-old classes, compiled research on attachment, you name it. And you know what all I wanted out of life even then? To be one of the mommies with an adoring baby, getting to really experience life with their child.
Maybe it's my sap mom emotions, but I got a little teary for a second. Lately, A has been a bit of a handful. She's going through a phase where she wants to be held and have your full attention constantly, and it can be exhausting. Furthermore, it leaves me questioning what I'm doing as a parent, as I *thought* I was on the right path to not raising a child with an attitude problem. But despite the emergent tantrum throwing, the frustration of doing tasks either one-handed or to the soundtrack of a crying baby, the total lack of personal space and time, one thing has been resounding to me since then:
What did I do so right in my life to get absolutely everything I ever wanted?