Y’all know I’m a nanny part-time. For one family.

I’ve been hanging with these jokers for some portion of every week for the last year and a half. And I don’t know when it happened, I couldn’t pinpoint the day, but at some point we went from nanny and family to just, well, family.

Simply said: I love them and they love me.

And in a few short days, they fly to LA for three months.

Simply said: Cool for them, sad heart for me.

Because they are my people.

I just don’t really know what to think about it yet. Time wise, I’ve planned out how to use these extra days each week to push forward on some awesome writing opportunities, maybe sleep late, maybe just enjoy a day off. And somehow, in the “I wonder what I’ll do with my nanny days these next few months” my brain forgot to register what it really meant.

They’re gone. And these moments are gone.

They say that three months will go by really quick.

They are probably right, but it doesn’t feel that way today.

The snuggles, the hugs, the chicken nugget lunches, the naptimes, the chocolate milk, the blankies and passies, the stuffed monkeys, the cars, the kisses, the laughs, the “I love you, Yannie” moments- they add up to far more than 3 months on a calendar.

There’s a place in my heart that will not be filled by anyone but them. And I hope they hurry home.