N.Y. Nanny Diary: How it Happened Part 2

I've always said I was a 'spontaneous' person.
What does that even mean?

To me it use to mean:

Hi, I'm outgoing and occasionally do things others typically don't because they have self respect.

Well.

To me it now means:

Packing up and moving across the country, not knowing one single soul, within less than a weeks notice.

Tuesday, May 22nd-Friday, May 25th: 


At the beginning of packing, I was calm and collected.
-I had been to New York a couple times before on vacation- so that made me an expert. 
-I'm great at making friends, so I won't be lonely. 
-Kids love me, so being a full time, live-in nanny will be a walk in the park. 
-I'm not scared. 


Little did I know as I nonchalantly did my 'draft' for what I was going to fit squeeze in my two suitcases, that I was wrong about every statement.

These days also consisted of more questions, expressed concerns and self defense lessons from my parents. Like I said, they really really really love me.


Saturday, May 26th: 


I woke up sick to my stomach. 
Was I REALLY leaving tomorrow?

Although I tried hiding it, I was T E R R I F I E D.
The entire day I was in a weird state of mind.
I was excited. 
I was sad. 
I was anxious. 
I was nervous.
I was happy.
I was scared to the bone. 


My mom put together a little family 'going away' party for me which included a BBQ aka: tons of food and people I love.

Everyone was asking how I was feeling. Naturally.
You can see from just a little list of how I was feeling that it was a little difficult to respond to that.
But I didn't want anyone to know how scared I was.

I could hardly eat.
That's when you know, people! That's when you know something is wrong!

I am so attached to my family and even though I'm making it sound like I was leaving for a 6-year trip to Afghanistan on the front lines of war- It was hard seeing them knowing that tomorrow I was not just leaving them, but I was leaving them and going really far away. To a place I didn't really know. To a place where I didn't know anyone. To ultimately live with strangers. 


Sunday, May 27th: 


Today was the day. 
Today I was doing something truly spontaneous. 
Was I ready? 
Didn't matter now.

As I gathered my completely, overpacked suitcases, travel goodies (an absolute need), my backpack and travel blankie (another necessity), I turned off my bedroom light and headed downstairs.
My house was pretty silent.
My parents were waiting downstairs and I was practically shaking- even though I tried to look like I was such an adult.

We said a prayer. Packed the car. and off we were to the airport. But not before my dad handed me two papers stapled together that included addresses and phone numbers of church leaders that would live near me and other tips and advice he had found on the internet about being a nanny in New York. My dad really is the man. And although I acted like I was annoyed, I mean I got this, right? wrong. It made me feel a little more at ease and I am very grateful for his protection.

The moment we pulled away from my driveway, tears started gracefully viciously releasing themselves.
My dad turned down the radio.
Here comes the speech...
I won't go into detail about what said, but basically it included tips on how to spot a predator, how to not get mugged and basically how to survive any type of attack that might even be slightly impossible to physically occur to me.

Nonetheless, I was still grateful and listened patiently. 


He had very detailed instructions of what I was suppose to do when I arrived at the airport and before I was to get into a car with the people (aka my employers) that were going to pick me up. The directions may or may not have included taking a picture of the license plate and sending it to him with a description of the car before I got in.

Oh yes. I can see it now: 
"Hello new boses. Let me make a great impression really fast and take a picture of your license plate and send it to my dad so he can stalk us from some sort of creepy, satellite program he probably installed on his computer to track our every move before I can get in.."
Totally happening. 


Although that direction was a little far fetched, I was grateful knowing that I had such a loving father who cared for me so much. I told you, he straight up secretly works for the C.I.A. 


Before I knew it, we were at the airport. 

I wiped away the tears and grabbed my things.
My dad waited in the car and my mom decided she wanted to walk me in and help me check-in.
Good thing she did, because my bags may or may not have both been overweight, causing me to do some much important contemplation in deciding what to let her take back home with her.
I guess I didn't really need 7 pairs of wedges, right? 
Yeah. 6 should be enough.

Anyways, so after that fiasco, I was checked in and the only thing left was to.... wait! where's my travel blankie?? It was still in the truck! Great.
Like I said, that was a necessity. 


So we headed back outside the airport where my dad pulled up.
He totally thought I had backed out. PSSYYCCHH. I need my blankie.
Priorities, people!

So after saying another goodbye to my dad, it was time to say goodbye to my best friend.
Mommy dearest.
(The thought of that moment is actually making me sick thinking about it, even two months later... Going to war in Afghanistan or just moving away for the summer- saying goodbye to my mom has and always will be the hardest thing I do)

She had already started crying and I knew I was a goner.
I squeezed her as hard as I could.
What if something really DOES happen to me and I never see her again?? 
My dad's lectures were really starting to set in. 
It was as dramatic as I'm making it sound. Gag if you want. But this is raw emotion right here.

Eventually I had to peel myself off of her and just walk away.

By the time I got to security- I was a MESS.
I'm pretty sure every security guard had their eye on me and even the person who checked my boarding pass and I.D. looked at it a couple times while looking back up at my swollen, wet eyeballs.
Yes lady, I'm not dying. 
No lady, I'm not loaded with explosives. 
Yes lady, I just miss my mom.


Once I got on the plane, I sat down, threw my travel blankie over me (yes, it deserves this much attention), and laid my head against the window.

"Good Morning passengers of Flight 176- Direct flight to New York City. Please sit with your seatbelt fastened and chairs in their up right position for take off" 


This was it.
No turning back now...

Time to be Spontaneous.

Bring. It. On. 

N.Y. Nanny Diary: How it Happened Part 1

Okay, so usually I'm a promise keeper.
But when I promised several people before I left for NYC that I'd blog about all my experiences, I had no idea what it would be like out here.
and in one word that would be: Busy. 


So here I am, using time as an excuse. So typical right? 
But fo' reals.
Since I have procrastinated so long, and there is much to this, I'm going to break it up into parts (I know, I know, you won't be able to sleep until the next post... the anticipation..Humor me.. )

Read on and you'll see that the word "busy" has taken on a new meaning for me when I became a "mother" of two girls-practically overnight.

Here's how it happened. 

Wednesday, May 16th: 


I had been home from school for about a month. I had just gotten my closet completely organized and I was settled. I was just working a casual 25 hrs a week and spending the rest of my time partying every night and doing really fun things .... orrrrr I might have been hanging out with my mom, going to the gym and organizing my closet...every day. Basically I had no idea how I was going to make it through 6 months of summer in the 'couve. I mean my mom is the coolest person I know, but only so much of my social life can be revolved around hurrying home from the gym so I can eat peanut butter out of the jar while watching American Idol and The Bachelorette with the woman who birthed me... right? 

We've been chillin since day one.

So anyways, it was just a typical Wednesday and I was actually at Seaside (the beach a place people from WA and OR like to call a beach) with some friends. I get a Facebook message from a friend I knew from school.
The message:

"Hey Kayley, 

How are you? Youre not at school this semester, are you?

I know this is random, but the family I used to nanny for in New York is looking for a Summer nanny starting in about 2 weeks, and I was wondering if you might be interested. I'm not sure what you've got going on now, but I thought I'd ask. 

They need someone until either the end of July or end of August-- whichever works best for you. They have 2 girls-- a 7 year old and a 4 year old. They spend the Summers at the country club, literally all day long. All expenses will be paid for, plus a nice salary. 

Let me know if you'd be interested and I can tell you more about it. 

Thanks" 

I could literally feel my heart jump. Who wouldn't respond to a message like that?? For some reason, I knew I was going the moment I read this message. Weird feeling.

After much messaging back and forth, the entire road trip back to home from the "beach", I was just thinking how I was going to convince my mom that I was going to move to NewYork in one week, and have her actually believe me.

I mean come on, it's like some unwritten rule:
When someone messages you and asks you to move to NY, expenses paid- YOU GO. 

Thursday, May 17th: 

I was tired. I had stayed up all night the night before thinking about my new life in New York.
Only problem: Hadn't told anyone I was going yet... I mean I'm 20 now (huge deal, okay? I hadn't been a teenager for exactly a month, it was time I did something that only grown ups do... make big, life changing decisions!)

... Do I really need permission? NO. Yes. Because my mom (if you couldn't tell) is my bestie and permission to me, is like support. and if my mom doesn't support something I want to do, it's usually for good reason and typically every time she is right.

So I planned out all day how I was going to break the news to her. 

She comes home from work. 

Play it cool, and stick to the plan. 

Me: "Mom, I'm moving to New York". Whoops. Crap. Not the plan. 

Mom: "Haha, Oh yeah? When?"

Me: "Next week..."

Mom: "Um why?"

Me: "To be a nanny..."

Mom: "Excuse me? Are you serious?"

Shoot. Telling her I was serious was suppose to be the first part of the plan. 

Me: "I think so...."
*Cue a night spent mostly of her asking me a million questions about the job, area, people, pay, environment, living situation, everything.* 

I just sat patiently and tried coming up with clever answers to give her no reason to not support me.. in-between bites of peanut butter and only during commercial breaks. It was Wednesday. American Idol. Hellloooo.

She was shocked and a little confused how this could all just happen so fast, but mostly skeptical.. I wouldn't actually go...right? 

Little did I know, her support was going to come a lot easier than from what I was about to learn, is the Protector of A L L protectors. Straight up, I'm now convinced he's worked for the C.I.A. and that the movie "Taken" was actually based on what my dad would do if something happened to me. Liam Neeson Mark Christensen himself. Aka: Daddy.

I mean come on, with a face like that, who wouldn't be intimidated??

Friday, May 18th: 
Today consisted mostly of my dad staring deep into my soul asking me every question that my mom had already asked me, plus a million more. He's a creative man, with a creative mind and he was determined to ask me as many questions as possible. Love this man. and it was very apparent that he REALLY loved me too.

I was flattered at first. 
"Aww they don't want me to leave!"


But in reality it was more of:
Ohhh... They don't want me to be abducted, kidnapped, shipped to China, forced into some drug cartel and become the latest story on 20/20. 


Understandable.

But for some reason, confidence grew stronger with every question I was asked, I was going. 


After a lot of prayer and more contemplation, I was ready to accept the job!

I received a call this day from the Mother. My potential "boss".
She did a phone interview and I was ready to tell her that I wanted to go.
The interview went well and she told me she had one other girl she was interested in and that she would let me know. It was very hard, especially after talking to her, not to get my hopes up.
I wanted to go SO bad. 


Monday, May 21st: 
I woke up anxious and throughout the whole day, I checked my phone probably 500,000,000,000 times. (I dont even know what number that is, but I'm sure it was at least that many).
The evening came and I hadn't heard anything.
I think my mom was secretly happy. It was very obvious that although she knew it would be a great opportunity, she really really really didn't want me to leave her.

Then it happened. 
It was 7pm and I was at the gym. 
I had given up all hope of receiving a phone call and I was on Mile 3 on the treadmill.
Phone starts buzzing.
Great. Timing.
I jump off the treadmill as fast as I possibly could and run to the nearest corner.
I take a couple big breaths to make it seem like I wasn't just running 3 miles, and then i answered.
I got the job! 
I was MOVING TO NEW YORK.......SUNDAY. 
Wait. That's like 6 days from now... I have to start packing! 


When I got back home and told my parents the news, they weren't really surprised but I knew the questions and researching and stalking- would not stop until I was gone. And even then it would probably continue. But as the days went on during that week, i was okay with it.

Because truth is: Every single day that went by, the more scared I got.