those were the days

This is my last day on the job and then my London au-pair days will be no more. It will have been nine months of life lived this way, in a routine of kids and school and an offering of complete flexibility to my job. I’m ready to go. More than ready, ready since my moving date was pushed back a week. I’d half sorted it out in my head, and then the move was delayed for a week. Now I’ve sorted it out in my head. It’s not that things have gotten bad, far from it, but I know I must go onto something else or grind to a halt and stay dead still, when I know without a doubt I should be moving. I am excited. I am nervous. I’ve no job, no INGO internship anymore (as of next week when the contract ends) and no clue of what’s next, except that I should be left in the deep without my floaties on strangling my arms and waist and neck.

The two boys I look after are as cute as ever. While they’re not my family they’re a family I have loved living with and helping on a day-to-day basis. A year has gone by quickly taking care of them. I never thought I’d be able to handle it, being with kids ALL the time, but I’ve managed with a few breaks in between!

B is six now and we have a special top secret handshake that no spy would be able to crack. Plus a eye-wink we share when we feel the need. He likes to hold my hand when we walk the streets. Occasionally he likes me to tell him a homemade story, ‘just make it up right now,’ he insists, although I tell him it’s hard to think up a moral story that’s good for the heart on the spot. Last week when we raced down the streets he told me he ‘didn’t have enough puff’ left in him to beat me. Sometimes he throws tantrums and cries at night because he really wants to pass world 2 on his Super Mario DS game. He never stops talking, ever. And I’m constantly amazed at the work he brings home from school, making him a very smart young man.

J is now three and every time he says my name in his jumbled up speech I melt a little more. His favorite toy is ‘gigey’ a lion he thinks is a tiger hence the name gigey like tigey and he has a soft spot for his bunny called ‘blully’ which he’s lost 3 times and we’ve replaced 4 times. He still wears a nappy but is self-conscious when he does a poo, shutting the door and shouting ‘go-way Amy, go-way’ when I step into the room. He gives me kisses on my cheek and gives a squeeze of a hug when you need one. He’s the politest boy I ever did meet and always says his manners with enthusiasm, ‘OHHHHHH yes please!’ and ‘ankyou’. Funniest of all he says his words back-to-front, cup is puc, chip is pich. Should I be worried? I don’t think so at his age and I’m too busy laughing about it and recording him on my phone.

So these are the boys that I must love and leave. Next season please. Coming right up.ย 

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