I've been a nanny for five years. In five days, I'll transition from "nanny" to "teacher" as I say goodbye to the kids I've grown so close to and go to Chicago for some ESL training before moving overseas. Up until this point, I've mostly held it together and haven't cried a whole lot. I know I'll see the kids again--I'll see them several times even between now and when I actually move in August. But, on Thursday, I'll say goodbye to my title as "nanny." And that's a hard transition to process. I'm not just saying goodbye to the kids. I'm saying bye to all the things that I get to do with them: hours of reading books, baking cookies, taking walks, playing at the pool. My new job will look completely different from my old job. And that's a good thing. I'm so excited for it. I love teaching and can't wait for that to get to be what I do everyday. But tonight, in this moment, I'm grieving the end of a chapter that I have loved so much.
I realized tonight that I most definitely placed a lot of my identity in being a nanny. When people would tell me I'm good with kids, I'd say, "Yeah, I'm a nanny so I spend lots of time with kids." Whenever someone asked what I do, I'd tell them I get to play with kids all day. I love, love, love being a babysitter/nanny. I've been so blessed to get to do a job that never really felt like a job for five years.