My girls

My girls
The best parts of my Very Grateful Life.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Forever our Rah-Rah

So it's just about one week til "summer" as we know it is officially over for the year, and both of my little girls will be headed to elementary school. Ella to 1st grade and Kate to kindergarten. Kate asks me every day how much longer she has to wait til school starts. And Ella is so excited about 'back-to-school' that she's already 20 steps ahead of us, making lists of all the activities she wants to do in December to celebrate Christmas. Happily, neither one of my girls is all that sad about end of summer days.

I thought I'd be sad about this milestone -- both of my girls going to elementary school. But I'm not. Maybe that's because elementary school is still so fun and shiny and new. Not just to my girls, but to me.

The one thing I'm not excited about...the one thing that makes my heart feel heavy...the one thing I've avoided thinking about (like. the. plague.)...is that back-to-school also means that we will no longer see our Rah-Rah every week. Rah-Rah, for those of you who don't know, is our beloved Sarah Johnson -- the woman who's been my girls' nanny for five years, also known as their entire lives. For perspective, this is how tiny my people were when Rah-Rah first came into their lives. (Ella couldn't say her name back when she was 17 months old, so she said "Rah-Rah." And it stuck.)

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I just don't even know what I can say to tell you how strange it will be for us to not see Rah-Rah every week. It's different than saying goodbye to a teacher, or even a daycare provider who's been with a child since babyhood. It's like a member of your very close family -- like a favorite aunt, or your sister -- one you see every single week -- moving away.

To be clear, Rah-Rah isn't moving anywhere. She lives less than 10 minutes away. And I know that we will see each other (often, I hope!). I know that she'll always feel like family. That she'll forever be one of those friends, to me, and a touchstone, for my girls, who means so much that she'll always just be part of us. For all of that, I am so grateful. But I'm still sad that we won't get to see her every week.

I've been thinking and thinking about how to mark this milestone. What gift can I give that would show our appreciation? What words could I ever use to express how much her presence in our lives has meant to us? I still don't have the gift part figured out. But here, I want to try the words.

Sarah Dietze Johnson. We miss you already. We miss your long, shiny, gorgeous red hair. We miss your bright eyes. We miss your smile -- and we want you to know that we never once took for granted that you greeted our children with that smile every single time you walked into our door at 8 o'clock in the morning. Every time you greeted them at the end of a school day. At the end of every nap, and the beginning of each new phase in their lives.

I love looking back at the (shamefully few!) photos I have of you and the girls...because in all of them, they are just crazy, mad, in love with you.

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We want you to know that we understand. We totally get the role you have played in raising our daughters. Kate has known you since she was 3 months old and Ella doesn't remember her life without you in it. You have spent 8 hours a day, 3 days a week with our daughters, for five years. I'm really bad at math. But that's a lot of hours. That's more time than anyone except Chris and I have spent with them. That time. Sarah, that time in our girls' lives. It was precious. It was so, so precious. I don't know if I could have left for work on all those mornings, had I not known that I was relinquishing those precious hours of my girls' lives to you.

You, who I knew would delight in the funny, bright things they say. You, who I knew would take just as much joy and pride in dressing them, and brushing their hair, and ponytailing and braiding and crafting and playing as I do. You, who I knew would reinforce our efforts to teach them to be kind. You, who would make sure they said their please's and thank you's.

You, who loved our girls as your own babies even before you had your own.

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You, who would put them in time out when they deserved it, but laugh when they found a way to fanagle out of it.

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Ella, practicing her sad/angry expression. photo February2011196.jpg

You, who would lay down with them and sing them lullabyes so they would take naps. You, who would hug them when they cried. You, who would worry about them when they were sick. Squeeze them when they got off the bus or when you picked them up from preschool. Clap for them, while smiling ear to ear, during ballet class or when they would say a new word or learn a new skill.

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You, who took time from her actual wedding to squeeze and shower attention on two little girls who were amazed that their nanny was a real, live, princess.

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You, who I always knew I could trust. Trust to never harm my girls -- to love and protect and care for them as they were your own.

When Ella's beloved Poodle was lost and she cried for two days straight, it was you who saved the day (the year? our lives?) when you found Him, wedged behind the headboard of the playroom bed.

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You, who was the first to feed Kate from a bottle. You, who was there to care for Ella overnight when Kate was in the hospital. You who made that night so special that Ella didn't truly realize her little sister was seriously sick.

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You, who were sick to your stomach, just as we were, when Ella was being seen in the Oncology ward at Children's Hospital for those dreaded weeks. You, who cared for my babies when I was so dreadfully sick that, for 2 full weeks, I didn't even know my name, couldn't open my eyes and could barely get out of bed. I was sad to miss those two weeks with my girls. But even as I lay like a drugged up zombie in bed, I never once worried about them, because I knew they were loved and cared for by their daddy at night, and you -- all day long.

As the girls grew older, I watched with pride and joy as I saw them shower your children with the same love and affection that you had showered on them since they were babies.

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Baby Case and his two biggest Band Aids/Groupies! photo 58939_10200821067947849_1510550094_n.jpg

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In bringing Case and Drew into our home all those days, it has been you who has given my daughters the opportunity to know that all-consuming love that we feel for them. Words can never describe how deeply Ella and Kate love your children. How much joy they get every time they hear Case call them "La La Bella" or "Dee Dee." They both got to be big sisters, and little mamas, to your beautiful babies. And I do believe that getting to play that role has been one of the greatest and most fulfilling experiences of their 5- and 6-year-old lives.

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I remember how I felt, as a 7-year-old girl, when my half-sister and then half-brother were born. How having them in my life somehow made my heart feel bigger, because so much more love needed to fit inside it. How I realized that life was not about me. How I realized how much more fulfilling life was when I focused on the needs and wants and joy of other people, instead of just on my own. And I am so grateful that my girls now know that same feeling. Case and Drew may not be 'siblings' to Ella and Kate, but as far as we are concerned, they may as well be. Ella and Kate love your children as they are their own brother and sister. And they have learned as much about unconditional love from their relationship with your children as any 'blood relation' ever could.

Sarah, if I wrote for hours, I couldn't capture all you've been to us. I sometimes wish I had stayed home full time with my girls. But in those moments, I always remind myself that if I had stayed home, my girls would not have had the gift of knowing and loving you, and Case, and Drew. And Map too.

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And as much as I treasure every moment with my girls, I wouldn't change a moment of their first 6 years, even if I could. Because their lives; their sweet, smart, sassy little souls; their personalities, their senses of 'self,' their very beings just wouldn't be the same had they not known, and loved, and been loved by you.

Sarah, please know that you will always have a special place in our hearts. You are so much more than a nanny to us. You are a dear friend. You are The One Who Knows Our Girls As Well As We Do. You made sure our girls felt love every hour we couldn't be with them. You are a member of our family -- one we have the blessing of choosing -- for life. We will always love you. We will always be grateful for you. You are welcome in our home any time, all the time, forever and ever. Lord knows I don't have to clean my house or even brush my teeth in order for you to come over, because you've seen us at our very worst.

Sarah, it really is true that it takes a village to raise a child. The Sugars, as you call us, are so, so grateful for the incredibly important role you have played in raising Ella and Kate. Thank you for being a constant source of love and brightness and joy in their lives. And ours. Thank you for sharing your children with us, and for helping prepare our girls for a Very Grateful Life. You will forever be our Rah-Rah, and we will love and adore and be grateful to you. Forever and ever. Amen.

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