As she drove away that final time, I watched out the window with tears rolling down my face. My daughter stood next to me, blowing kisses. An important chapter in our lives had closed; our nanny was leaving for new adventures. This woman who first entered our home as a stranger, left as a family member. And in the process, she made me a better parent.
I've come to dislike the presumption that easier equals better. What do things like "easier" and "better" even mean in the context of parenting? In the harder times, love trumps, and when I say "love" I don't mean the energetic enthusiasm that infuses family togetherness during the steadier periods.