Let me go on the record and say just how much I hate the cold and the wind.  I hate it almost as much as I hate the Jersey Shore television show.  And I hate that show with the passion of a thousand fiery suns. I HATE WIND. I HATE COLD.  AND TODAY IS MISERABLE!!!
My legs are STILL sore from ballet.  My thighs and butt hurt.  Because I haven’t used those muscles in my whole life I guess….And honestly, I can’t wait for next monday when I get to do it all over again.

I’ve been job hunting frantically every day for anything in Omaha.  I’ve been researching health care plans for individuals but all that does is frustrate and confuse the heck out of me.  I’ve been taking naps because I’m always tired.  And I’ve been wondering if maybe I have mono again or if it’s just another one of those not-so-joyous-joys of nannying.
I’ve started bringing up the big boy potty around him, having him sit on it and watch Scooby Doo.  Talking about what goes in there and why we do it.  To not be afraid, it’s a cool cool thing.  He’s still wearing his diapers, but my goal right now is to just make him overly aware and almost bore him to death with the repetitive talk about poop and pee.  Because his parents want him trained at the age of 2.  Boys are slow learners with this concept and its hard for them to really understand.  So right now, I just talk about poop like most people talk about themselves.  All the time.  Poop talk on the way to music, poop talk on the way to get a juice box from Starbucks.  Poop talk at the dinner table, yeah, we talk about poop there, because poop is indigestible food.  It’s the process and he can learn where it comes from and do it and know it’s okay that poop comes out into a potty and not in his diaper. Sorry.  But now you get my point.  Poop.  All the cool kids are doing it and I make sure he knows he can do it to.  We make it fun.  And hopefully next week, I’ll get him to sit on the potty without pants for a few minutes to see how it feels.  Baby steps into big boy things.  It’s life.
I guess it really frightens me to think that I won’t be his nanny forever and I’ll have to say goodbye.  That another person will step in and do things the way they think is best.  But he’s resilient.  And smart.  He’s not going to remember me in a few years anyway, but I’ll have impacted his life in a positive way.  He’ll know we don’t hit or kick people because I taught him not to.  He’ll continue to laugh at himself when he makes silly mistakes because we’re all too serious and I taught him that’s it’s okay to laugh.  He’ll say thank you to people because of me.  And he’ll talk about the mighty brontosaurus because I taught him that.  But he won’t remember me.  And that’s okay.  He’ll have the right concepts about life and he’ll be a good kid.  I’m not his parent, a forever position in his life is not made for me.  I am temporary like the wind.  Like the messy transition between diaper and potty.  I am just a phase in his life.  But he’s impacted my life immensely and I’ll never forget the lessons of patience, and laughter, of innocence, and simple things.
I don’t think I’ll take up another nanny position unless I have to.  No.  I think the next kids I raise will be my own in a few years.  It’s so hard to see them grow and have personality and other parents.  I love him.  Little Buddy. But because of him, I can move on and he can too, and we’ll both have come out better in the end.

I'm 26. Lost and in transition. I don't have the answers, just thoughts.