Changes

Changes. I need them in my life more than I need the capability to breathe air. It's not so much that I crave new things; it's more so that I crave the ending of something in order to even have the opportunity to experience something new. I've been counting down the days to a number of different things ever since I was little. Ten days left until Christmas. Five weeks of classes left until the end of the semester. Two weeks until my next trip to see a boy. A month until the end of my apartment lease. 

I enjoy being able to live my life out in this ridiculous sort of planned out countdown. It keeps me moving forward. Balanced. On track. But I haven't really had too many major life changes coming my way lately and I've honestly felt a tinge of quarter life crisis crazy coming my because of it. I just get so antsy whenever I find myself living in some sort of robotic routine. And that's exactly the way things were.

That is until my nanny family told me that they've decided to uproot their lives to move to Israel.

I don't talk about my job much on my blog. Partly because my nanny kid isn't my own and doesn't need his life plastered across the interwebs for every random stranger from here to Australia to read, and also because I don't feel like too many of my readers would really relate to my stories about getting peed on and picking up Legos every day.

But the funny thing is that the one little guy who has been one of the biggest parts of my life for just about the entirety of this blog, is also the one who's rarely ever mentioned.

It's hard to describe how it's possible to love a child with so much of your heart when he isn't even yours. It's gotta be one of those things that no one can really understand unless they've been there feeling the same damn feelings. Because it's not just about watching someones child for them. I've babysat plenty of kids. I've worked in a daycare teaching numerous children. This little guy is different. It's almost like I'm his big sister, loving him, teaching him, helping to raise him because I actually truly care about his development, not because it's just my job.

I've been there almost every day for the past two years. Since before he could even hold his head up. When tummy time was still a nightmare that lasted a solid thirty seconds. Since the start of teaching him how to communicate his needs through sign language. Before that Harry Potter scar graced his left eyebrow after slamming into the coffee table. Before he had eaten a single ounce of solid food. Before the baby gymnastics classes and the soccer practices and the thousands of walks around Manhattan. He's been my best buddy ever since he was three months old.

And now not only am I not going to be able to see him every day, I'm not going to be able to see him at all. Because he's moving to Israel in less than two months.

The sadness over it all is pretty unreal. I've cried at random times when I put him down for naps. His mom has cried whenever she brings up anything to do with moving and not having me. It hasn't fully set in yet because it still just all feels like some sort of crazy dream. Being attached to any job is tough whenever the day comes that tears you apart - but being attached to a child you've watched grow from a squishy ball of snuggles into a little man that says your name and needs you is beyond hard. It's heartbreaking. And while I obviously knew that this would happen one day, because it is a job and I'm not actually his big sister, I just didn't expect it to arrive so soon.

But it'll be here before I know it, which means I now have a countdown and some life changes headed my way. But I think we're going to save that for tomorrow since now I'm crying again.

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