Lessons From Unlikely Sources

My summer job is being a nanny. I work for a single father who has his two little girls (6 year old Lily and 9 year old Sophie) for the summer months. So my days now are spent cooking and cleaning, doing laundry and playing Barbies. We watch lots of Hannah Montana, we color and we play outside. When the weather is nice- or even remotely nice- we usually go to the pool in town, spending 3-4 hours playing in the water. This isn't my first nannying job but this one has taught me a few more things about life, children and love:

1) No matter what, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich cut into four little triangles can say "I love you." No kidding. The girls' dad, Joe, told me that whenever he made sandwiches for the girls, they wouldn't eat them. I asked Lily about it and she said, "Well, it tastes better when there are four pieces and you are the queen of peanut butter sandwiches. You make them real good- even better than school." High praise indeed.
When I first made her a PBJ sandwich early on in the summer, I told her that my mom used to cut my sandwiches like that sometimes. Now every time we have sandwiches- peanut butter or otherwise- each girl gets "four little triangles," a little extra time taken to cut that sends a message to a little girl saying, "I made this just for you. It might just be a sandwich but you know that I care."

2) Hair rituals can be sacred and the time spend on them is vital. Both girls have long, beautiful hair that regularly needs lots of attention. Having short hair myself, I learn as I go. I'm not what I would consider very "girly" and my hair ritual consists of washing, a little bit of product and the end result is that I purposely look like I just got out of bed. Luckily, in my last nannying job, I learned how to french braid.
I think most of us at some point in our lives have enjoyed having someone play with our hair. It is an intimate, comforting thing. Everyday I brush the girls' hair and either braid it or put it up in ponytails. This is about the only time of day that they sit still. They sit down at the kitchen table or on the living room floor with straight backs, holding their heads high, just waiting for me to brush all the tangles out. I've learned over the summer that there is more to this ritual than simply "doing" their hair. Spending time brushing it and touching their heads is just as important as the end result.
Joe told me that his kids' long hair "sort of scares" him and that he has no clue what needs to happen with it. While the girls have never told me this, I suspect that hair care and "hair rituals" are pretty important when they live with their mom. And so each day we spend a good hour on hair- 30 minutes each. Combing, untangling, braiding, simply touching the head of and being close to each girl, reminding them how special they are and how much I care about them.
I had not been with the girls for a few days because they were on vacation last week. When I got there on Tuesday morning, they both raced to the door to meet me, carrying combs and pony tail holders arguing about who was going to get their hair done first. Hair. Something so simple, so "girly", so important- time that I wouldn't give up for anything.


These two things are only the tip of the iceberg of my summer. I love these two little girls I just met in May more than I ever thought possible and every day is a new adventure.

Never underestimate the power of a triangle cut PBJ sandwich and a hairbrush.

Soli Deo Gloria,
Amy