I take care of an almost-one-year old. Its my current job. As much as it keeps my pride in check to still live near my alma mater and have to declare myself a "nanny", I don't hate the job. Its not difficult by any means, which is part of the tedium. But its quite amazing how much of Jesus you can find amidst the diapers, bottles, drool and snot. No, I'm not advocating pantheism, I'm simply saying that when you are looking for Him, he can be found even in the most trivial of tasks. Like I usually mention, there is glory in the mundane. And the past few months have been me discovering just that.
I've developed a language with my baby. We have a certain humor, and I would say we communicate pretty well. Even the dog and I have conversations. I've considered starting a running list that turns into one of those calendars they sell at stands in the mall at Christmas:
You Know You're a Nanny when....you have formula all over your back seat. You know you're a nanny when... if they had a "minute to win it" on changing diapers, you would crush the competition. You know you're a nanny when...you've developed a new word that transcends "ambidextrous" to include your feet, mouth, neck and thighs called "bodydextrous". You know you're a nanny when...you want to ask for a raise because the dog cries more than the baby. You know you're a nanny when...you're body is violated in a dozen ways every day that you are powerless to avoid. And my most recent: You know you're a nanny when...the sound of your noisemaker at night is so similar to the sound of the baby moniter, you have to adjust to a different sound otherwise you won't sleep for fear of the dreaded "waking cry".
I guess all these could be applied to moms as well. And that doesn't encourage me much, or at all. I'm too young to be a mom. I'm 23. I'm healthy. I'm vibrant. I have good style. I drive a convertible. With a car seat. Oh...
As my grandmother used to say, "the point is", that even in these things, I've found humor, joy, peace, beauty, life, gratitude, and love. And he's not even my baby! And Rosie's not even my dog! This gives me hope for my own days of motherhood.
I know that this is a season in my life, and compared to my past 7 or so years, its nothing like my life has been. But thats ok. Its been a lot of growth and change, and failures. I may not be doing what I expected or wanted to be doing, but I've been doing what I could, and its been good. And besides the baby and the dog, I get to go do life with people that are sloppy, messy, and drop dead beautiful. And I love doing life like that.
I went to an equestrian center with some friends this week. They were a little shocked at my boldness with the horses, and my knowledge of them. Well, you can take the girl out of the farm and the country, but you can't take the farm and the country out of the girl. Once a southerner, always a southerner. And when I was walking around that equestrian center, I didn't care I was getting my nice clothes all dirty and smelly. I love the smell of horses too much to care about that. And life is so much more fun messy, and sloppy. If my baby wants to kiss my neck and face with slobber running down his chin, I'll let him. Because I'd rather take care of a happy drooly baby than a clean ornery one.
And I'd rather live life messy and beautiful than clean and dull. I don't love getting sweaty, but I love dancing hard more! I don't enjoy dirty feet, but I love wearing flip flops 24/7. I hate doing laundry, but I don't mind getting filthy doing something fun or productive. As they say, a little dirt never hurt nobody!
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