Yesterday, the youngest boy I look after graduated from his nursery, all ready to start "big" school in September. It was such a great day. He did so well in his performance and I couldn't help but shed a few tears.
It hit me that I have just two months left with them, and even though I will see them from time to time, the close relationship we have built over the past 18 months will not be the same. They'll have a new nanny and I'll have new kids to look after and we'll move on. I really hate goodbyes. I'm no good at them and I've had too many of them. I always start to cry and never really get to say exactly how I feel.
After the performance, I took both of the kids to our favourite playground and I watched as little-boy-four balanced on the balance beam by himself. I taught him that. I watched him swing himself on the swings, stretching his legs out as he went forward, tucking them in as he swung back. I taught him that. I watched his six-year-old sister take her first one-handed swing on the monkey bars. I taught her that. I realised then that I have made a difference in their lives and even though I won't be there day to day, they'll remember me.
No one told me about this side of the job when I signed up!