on being one, and twenty seven.
"it happened as casually as i thought it would. a friend texted me about a facebook post she saw about a nanny job. i reached out to the mom, met her and her husband and their sweet baby, and was offered the job five days later. the only difference is, i pictured this all happening about eight months earlier."
i wrote this on the day i started my new job as a nanny. after months of editing my profile on care.com, of meeting new moms and moms who were about to have their second or fourth baby, of trying to figure out what i was looking for or if i was even looking in the right place.
there was one job, in particular, that seemed perfect. it marked off all the items i have on my "ideal" checklist. i didn't get the job, but i wasn't disappointed – only confused and curious. by then, i had learned that god knows better. but, better than this? this job was my list and then some, and isn't that what he's supposed to give me? beyond what i could even ask for or imagine?
when i got the job i have, i wondered why this one was the right one when it didn't mark off all the items on my list. god knows better, i know. but what is it about this one that makes it the one i actually need, and not the one i think i need? what makes this more, when it feels like less?
i sort of forgot about it after a while, though. in the routine of having a job and not having to think about how i would pay my bills every month, i stopped wondering why this job because i had a job. (isn't that the way it always goes?)
on saturday, this boy i've been spending all my days with turned one year old and it sort of caught me off guard to realize – as i made a list of all the things he knows, at one, that i have watched or encouraged him to learn – just how many of the same things i was (re)learning too. how many things we learn once, and then over and over again.
how to sleep through the night.
how to soothe yourself.
how to let yourself rest, even in the middle of the fun (or crazy).
how to feed yourself.
how to find balance.
how to get back up again after you fall.
how to not throw a tantrum when something happens that you don't like.
it has been such a joy, and so much fun, to spend each day with him. to grow with him, to learn with him. to look back, now, and see how we got here, to one, together.
the thing is, it couldn't have happened eight months sooner. for a lot of reasons, i know – but mainly, because he hadn't been born yet.
and i don't know about the other lives i would have lived, taking care of babies who had been born sooner. i can't tell you why those other families wouldn't have been the right fit, or what it is about this baby that makes him the one that fits best.
i just know, when he reaches for me and snuggles his face into my neck, i'm glad it's him.