Always Remember Rosa
This post is in honor of Love Thursday, the brainchild of Karen of Chookooloonks and Irene of Momster. To find out more, go to Karen's most recent Love Thursday post.
Dear Emily and Thomas,
Part of my motivation for writing this online journal--this mommyblog--is to provide you with a glimpse of what your childhood was like in case I'm not around to tell you. Senility doesn't seem to run in our family, but I could be the trendsetter in that regard; you never know.
I'm writing you this letter to tell you about the wonderful woman who comes over to our house every Tuesday and Thursday and who loves you as if you were her own children. Her name is Rosa.
Rosa started working for us last year, when Thomas was 8 months old. Taking care of two small children is a lot of work and mommy thought that her head was about to explode. That's why I started interviewing women to come and watch you a couple of days a week so that I could have some time to be by myself and recharge my batteries. When you have kids of your own, you will understand what I mean.
Several women came to our house to interview for the position of being your nanny. Some were okay, some clearly weren't going to work out, but only one stood out as the right person for the job: Rosa. From the minute I opened the door, she only had eyes for you. Emily, she let you dig through her purse and take out of the cards in her wallet. Thomas, she wanted to hold you from the minute she saw you.
I could barely get Rosa's attention to interview her but I realized that it didn't matter. Her qualifications were obvious; she wanted to spend time with the two of you. Often in life, you know immediately when something is wrong and when something is right. I knew that Rosa was right and I told your dad that night that she was the person we'd be hiring.
One year later and I can't imagine not having Rosa in our lives. She is such a nice person and she does so many things for our family. She's an excellent cook and many nights she leaves here with big pots of beans and rice on the stove and a plate of chicken covered with plastic wrap waiting on the counter. She not only spoils the both of you, she also spoils me with her generous spirit and kind heart.
This year for my birthday Rosa made me a special lasagne and brought me a cake from a bakery by her house. When I sat down at the kitchen table with you and Rosa to enjoy a piece of breakfast birthday cake, I felt like Rosa truly was a part of our family. And that we are part of her family, too.
There are other things I can tell you about Rosa, about how she is from Nicaragua and moved her when she was fourteen years old after revolution tore apart her country, about how she has a husband and three kids and lives in a tiny apartment in South San Francisco, about how her car breaks down every other week and how I drive to pick her up in the morning and drive her home at night, too. But those things don't matter to you now and they probably won't matter to you in the future.
What might matter to you in the future, what I really want you to remember, is how she holds you in her arms and sings the same Spanish lullaby she sang to her own kids when they were little -- Duérmete mi niño:
Duérmete mi niño, duérmete mi amor
Duérmete pedazo de mi corazón
Sleep, my child, sleep my love,
Sleep, piece of my heart
Love, mommy
***
Technorati tags: letters, nanny, love, caregivers, love thursday
Dear Emily and Thomas,
Part of my motivation for writing this online journal--this mommyblog--is to provide you with a glimpse of what your childhood was like in case I'm not around to tell you. Senility doesn't seem to run in our family, but I could be the trendsetter in that regard; you never know.
I'm writing you this letter to tell you about the wonderful woman who comes over to our house every Tuesday and Thursday and who loves you as if you were her own children. Her name is Rosa.
Rosa started working for us last year, when Thomas was 8 months old. Taking care of two small children is a lot of work and mommy thought that her head was about to explode. That's why I started interviewing women to come and watch you a couple of days a week so that I could have some time to be by myself and recharge my batteries. When you have kids of your own, you will understand what I mean.
Several women came to our house to interview for the position of being your nanny. Some were okay, some clearly weren't going to work out, but only one stood out as the right person for the job: Rosa. From the minute I opened the door, she only had eyes for you. Emily, she let you dig through her purse and take out of the cards in her wallet. Thomas, she wanted to hold you from the minute she saw you.
I could barely get Rosa's attention to interview her but I realized that it didn't matter. Her qualifications were obvious; she wanted to spend time with the two of you. Often in life, you know immediately when something is wrong and when something is right. I knew that Rosa was right and I told your dad that night that she was the person we'd be hiring.
One year later and I can't imagine not having Rosa in our lives. She is such a nice person and she does so many things for our family. She's an excellent cook and many nights she leaves here with big pots of beans and rice on the stove and a plate of chicken covered with plastic wrap waiting on the counter. She not only spoils the both of you, she also spoils me with her generous spirit and kind heart.
This year for my birthday Rosa made me a special lasagne and brought me a cake from a bakery by her house. When I sat down at the kitchen table with you and Rosa to enjoy a piece of breakfast birthday cake, I felt like Rosa truly was a part of our family. And that we are part of her family, too.
There are other things I can tell you about Rosa, about how she is from Nicaragua and moved her when she was fourteen years old after revolution tore apart her country, about how she has a husband and three kids and lives in a tiny apartment in South San Francisco, about how her car breaks down every other week and how I drive to pick her up in the morning and drive her home at night, too. But those things don't matter to you now and they probably won't matter to you in the future.
What might matter to you in the future, what I really want you to remember, is how she holds you in her arms and sings the same Spanish lullaby she sang to her own kids when they were little -- Duérmete mi niño:
Duérmete mi niño, duérmete mi amor
Duérmete pedazo de mi corazón
Sleep, my child, sleep my love,
Sleep, piece of my heart
Love, mommy
***
Technorati tags: letters, nanny, love, caregivers, love thursday
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