As most of you know, I’m spending my summer in South Florida. What many of you do not know, is that my babysitter moved here almost 10 years ago.
She was awesome. She started watching us when I was around 4 or 5 and my sister was barely 3. Our childhoods wouldn’t have been the same without her. She took us to our first high school basketball game, to her softball games, and made Friday and Saturday nights, in the house, a blast.
Then, around the time I was old enough to stay home by myself, she decided to head down to the Sunshine state and test her luck. I hadn’t seen her since. That is, until yesterday.
When I got here, in Florida, I sent her a text and guess what. She lives 20 minutes from where I’m staying. So after almost 10 years, I got to see her again yesterday.
She’s just like I remember her, tall, pretty, and someone who doesn’t put up with crap. Though there was one thing that was very different. Now she’s a mom.
And can I tell you her twin boys, Giuseppe and Silvio (their dad lived in Sicily since he was 7 so obviously they’re very Italian) are ADORABLE.
They turn 1 on Wednesday but if you didn’t know better, one could guess they’re a little older. I say that because of how good they are in the pool.
My cousin and I were in the pool with them for at least an hour. There was no crying and no fussing. That’s a big deal for kids who are just shy of a year old (we have 6 year olds at camp who regularly have a meltdown and most of the time refuse to get into the pool. That was not the case with these little guys).
We would place them on the side of the pool and before we knew it they were launching themselves back into our arms. They put their face in (on their own), we dunked them (no crying), and they were splashing and kicking with barely any guidance. My cousin and I were shocked.
Safe to say we tuckered them out a bit because they passed out in their little red wagon in no time at all. So I had a chance to catch up with my babysitter.
We talked about old times. Like how milkshakes were a regular (even though some of them got on the ceiling. Sorry Mom!), how we flooded the bathroom and it came through the ceiling, the fact that she put up with as many as 6 of us at one time, and all the laughs and memories we shared together.
I mean, when she sent me to my room at the ripe age of 8, I don’t think I realized how much of an impact she would have on my life. I am so immensely grateful that we were able to come into each other’s lives again. Safe to say I probably wouldn’t be as well behaved as I am now with out her (my sister, however, is a different story. But after putting up with her, those twin boys should be a breeze for my babysitter).
Luckily, since she’s so close and I’m here for the next month or so, I will definitely be seeing her again (and hopefully babysitting her kids! How weird is that?).
So I truly believe people do come in and out of our lives for a reason. Most of them stay, while others tend to wander. The best ones find their way back. And after that it’s like riding a bike. You never forget to come back no matter how much time has passed.