The typical nanny story follows along a monotonous timeline of PB&J sandwiches, kids screaming, a couple cute laughs, and a bedtime story to wrap up the day.
However, my nanny memories go a little differently.
The typical day with my nanny Jill went along a timeline of... well, actually, come to think of it, every single day was different and none of them typical. Though our days were usually filled with Subway runs, funny dares and embarrassing photos, my days with my nanny taught me more than any other nanny could.
I remember one time specifically, my nanny and older sister collaborated to throw my twin and me a birthday surprise, but not just any birthday surprise — the big one. "The double-digit initiation" was a surprise extravaganza the night that we turned from nine years old to 10. Woken up at midnight and taken to various places such as a diner, Walgreens, etc., we were given tasks in order to be "initiated" into the years of being a double-digit adult. Embarrassing dares of running and screaming through pharmacies, or smushing food into our face in front of a waitress prepared us for the years ahead as we were no longer a kid with a single digit age.
While presumably, these times were just for the giggles of Jill and my older sister, they taught my twin and me how to not take life so seriously. Jill taught us in her own silly way how to stay humble; it was a sure-fire way to have us develop a sense of humor toward life, as well.
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Jill introduced me to the realness of life. The whimsical side of made-up stories, the hopeful side of throwing wishes into a literal bottle and throwing them in the ocean, and the not-so-good aspects of life that sometimes we have to face.
When I was 7 years old, I was diagnosed with Type One Diabetes, and while most children could get away with using this disease to get what they wanted, Jill never let me. My parents did an excellent job of grounding me, but when it came to relating my disease to my social life with friends, Jill took care of making sure I never relied on my disease as an excuse to be a sour person. She trained on needles, units of insulin, and finger pricks seemingly without a glimpse of fear. I don't think that she knows that her fearlessness toward my disease gave me the illusion that I was invincible toward this disease, as well. If she could so easily adapt to handling a child with Type One Diabetes, then I could easily adapt to living with this disease.
A remarkable woman still, Jill is a kind and caring mother to her son. I have no doubt in my mind that her son will grow up with the lessons and silly ways of maneuvering the ups and downs of life with Jill's persistence.
Thank you for making my childhood so wonderful and developing me into the resilient woman I am.