the four year nanniversary.

Long ago, before I began my career as a nanny, I did a stint in college.  it was short-lived, and I thank God for that.  unlike most, I didn't love college, and it didn't like me much either.  after two universities, four semesters, six times changing my major, and zero motivation + direction, my college career ended.  I'd be lying if I said I was upset about it—now or then.  I've said it once and I'll say it again, school [specifically college] is not for everyone.

but the deal was, as my parents so gently reminded me: if I wasn't attending school, I had to work full time.  this was completely fine with me because I'd been working since the age of 12 and had a steady job up until this point.  so "work" was nothing new.  in fact, by this point, I'd had eleven jobs in about a five year span.  have you ever seen Gilmore Girls?  think Kirk.  my résumé is extensive, with work experience in fields including, but not limited to: salons, spas, sporting goods, retail, food + restaurant industry, and child care.  I even worked at a fabric store for a day.  literally one [1] day.  when I realized there would be lots of measuring involved... well that's not really my thing, so that was the end of that.  I like to think this work experience makes me well-rounded.  but the story of my jobs is a story for another time.

in her Sunday school class, my mother had heard of a family in our church who was looking for someone to take care of their children.  the hours were good, the pay was great, so I said, "SIGN ME UP!"  I'm teasing—I had to go through a strenuous interview process, background check, physical fitness aptitude test, and extensive drug testing.  kidding, again.  I did meet with them and "interview" if you want to call it that.  I liked them immediately.  they were a sweet young couple with a little girl and a baby boy.

As I mentioned earlier, I'd been babysitting for years and I'd grown up with younger siblings around, so I felt as if I was readily equipped for such a job as this.  in some ways, I was; but in others, I was not.  I knew how to change diapers, I like to think I do a good job entertaining, I'm pretty responsible [not so much with academia, but definitely with humans].  I was set.  I believe the thing I was most unprepared for is how deeply I'd fall in love with the family.  I knew I would grow somewhat attached, but I could never have fathomed the depth.

Two years into this gig, I was ready for another baby.  I found another family in our church who'd just had a sweet baby girl earlier that year.  I didn't know them well and I don't remember doing this, but one day at church I approached the mother and simply said, "I want to keep your baby while you're at work."  for reasons unknown to me, she agreed and Charlie Claire has been a part of our group ever since.

In my small, twenty-year-old brain, I don't think I thought much about the future.  I don't think I realized I would fall in love with this job and these people and that I might want to stick around for years and years.  have you ever seen The Help?  at the end of the movie, a man and his wife offer their housekeeper a job for the rest of her life, as long as she wants it.  I've had that same conversation with mine.  just call me Minnie.  we often joke about me taking care of the children until they graduate high school.

When I first began nannying for them, Alayna was two and Andy was about nine months.  when I began keeping Charlie Claire, she was about eight months.  this fall, Alayna will turn seven and Andy will turn five.  on Charlie Claire's next birthday, she'll turn three.  I cannot even believe that.  they say time flies when you're having fun, so I must be having a ball.

I've loved this job from the very beginning.  and now after four years, we've fallen into a wonderful routine.  by the end of the week, I need the weekend.  and by the end of the weekend, I'm telling my husband how much I miss my babies. 

it has, without a doubt, been the sweetest adventure.  I've gotten to witness + be a part of first steps and first words, the transition from a crib to a big boy/girl bed, potty training, losing teeth, countless birthday parties, and so many other wonderful things.  I've gotten to love on these babies and be a part of these families and it has blessed me in the richest of ways.

there are moments I feel as if I've caught a small glimpse of the kind of love a parent has for their child.  moreover, I've gained a better understanding of our Father's love for us. 

I know I won't be able to do this forever, and, as much as I plead with them, the children will grow up.  but I'm so grateful for my time with them and all they've taught me and every minute spent together.  it's been the best four years of my life. 

happy nanniversary to us, sweet babies!  here's to four more.

the story behind the tiny white house.

Ever since I was a little girl, I've loved everything about houses. I loved playing house, I loved arranging my room just so [still do—ask Drew], I loved drawing floor plans. you get the idea. long before the Pinterest era, my mother kept a notebook with pictures cut out from magazines filled with ideas she loved. from living rooms to bedrooms to Christmas decor ideas, this binder held floor plans and was complete with subject dividers to organize all the dreams and ideas. I can't remember my exact age, maybe nine or ten, but I began to a keep a "housey notebook" of my own. I still keep one to this day.

I don't know what it is, but there is something about creating a home that I just can't get enough of. for some time, this bothered me. I felt, and still feel at times, that it's insignificant, and in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter much. but what I've come to learn is that God created me this way and placed this passion and knack for creating things deep in my heart. it's taken me years to realize, understand, and embrace this. because at the end of the day, do paint colors and throw pillows really matter? no. but I believe the Lord romances us by giving us little gifts in our hobbies + interests to use for Him, and even to bring us joy. in addition to my love for the home, I have a thing for white houses. my mom has always liked them too, so maybe it's genetic. whatever it is, I am drawn to them.

I've been married coming up on two years now and my husband and I live in a tiny white house. I happened upon it four months before our wedding and fell in love with it immediately. we've been here ever since. it's not perfect. the floors are slanted, it's only got one closet, there's no dishwasher [or rather, I am the dishwasher]... but it's home. it's got brick floors, thick trim, and lots of windows. it's cozy and comfortable, the place we embarked on the greatest adventure of all.

I know we won't be here forever. and I know that, unfortunately, there's no absolute certainty that we will always be living in a tiny white house. but I also know that the Lord always provides, and whether it's a shoebox apartment, a brick house, whatever... He will reveal what He has for us, where He wants us, and I'll have a ball making that 'home.’

"for every house is built by someone, but the builder of all things is God."
Hebrews 3:4

"and He determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. God did this so that they would seek Him and perhaps reach out for Him and find Him, though He is not far from any one of us."
Acts 17:26-27

loss.

We're approaching the one year mark of my husband's precious mama's passing. she was truly a remarkable person with kind, blue eyes + the most gentle spirit. 

it has been the hardest year + experience I've ever been through. loss is the strangest thing... so final. and it happens whether you're ready for it or not. months after she was gone, I would be going about my day, doing my normal routine and it would hit me—oh yeah, she's gone. nighttime was the worst. every night before bed I would be reminded of something about her and tears would immediately follow.

Eight months after her passing, Drew came home from work and he was visibly upset. he told me, "something happened at work and I thought mom would think it was funny, so I tried to call her. I couldn't find her in my contacts and I didn't know why and then I remembered." as soon as he told me, my eyes welled up with tears and I just sat there in silence weeping. eight months later and it's still. so. fresh.

along with the hurt, there is bitterness. this is not something I'm proud of, but I assume it is a natural part of the process. when others complain about their mothers in-law, I think, at least you have one. [disclaimer: I do have another mother in-law, and for that, I am so grateful] once, I was meeting my sister for lunch with one of my friends. I can't remember what the scuffle was about, but my sister had done something that I did not like. "ugh I can't stand her," I confessed to my friend afterward. my friend, who had lost her only sister years earlier, replied, "at least you have a sister. be thankful for that." talk about feeling convicted. I'll never forget this lesson, and I now know that feeling so strongly. when I hear of others being diagnosed with, battling, or dying of cancer, I become enraged. it is so infuriating. in the same way, when I hear of others being healed, I become envious and question it. why them? why do they get to be healed? why didn't she? it's not that I don't want others to be healed, but I wanted that for her, too.

and there's anger. she should be here. she should get to see her little girl growing up. she should get to see her oldest daughter walk down the aisle someday. she should get to meet + hold her grand-babies. she should get to take care of her parents and husband. she should get to visit with her sister on the phone and exchange stories about their children. all these things we still need her here for—and she's not.

but somewhere, beneath the sadness, hurt, bitterness, and anger... there's hope. there's joy. there's thanksgiving. there's relief.

there's hope that we will see her again someday. there's joy that I got to love + be loved by her. there's thanksgiving. I am so grateful that I ever had the privilege of meeting her and becoming a part of her family. there's relief that she left us before her illness was too much... too much for her to even recognize us. more than that, there's relief that she is now whole.

Things will never be the same without her. there will always be an ache in our hearts for her presence, but her spirit + memory live on forever. and one day, I'll get to tell my children about the amazing woman that was their grandmother. I can't wait for that.

"yes, we are fully confident, and we would rather be away from these earthly bodies, for then we will be at home with the Lord."
2 Corinthians 5:8

"You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book."
Psalm 56:8


photography by Allison Daniell of Stellar Propeller Studio + Houston Bass of Honest Photography