There are three little words that hit me with an irresistable desire to satisfy. “Natalie, get me.” After hearing those words for the first time I checked over my shoulder and saw Caleb’s face lit up with the widest smile, his knees bent in preparation to be chased.

With much amusement I started toward him, and from there it was all out mayhem. Caleb’s surprise sent him careening around the corner expelling all sorts of excited shrieks. We went on like this for a few go arounds when I decided to turn back and surprise him in the opposite direction. “BOO!” I shouted. And before he could make a run for it I scooped him up and tossed him onto the couch, pillows falling behind him as he rolled and squirmed his way off.

Then… those words again. “Natalie, get me!”

Because for a child, catching them once, or twice, or seven to twenty times is simply never enough.

So we continued for a while, running around the house. Me chasing Caleb, three year old Ryder chasing me, and baby Grant on his play mat observing the whole spectacle. After a few more circles around the kitchen and living room, Caleb would get tossed on one couch, I’d turn to grab Ryder, toss him into a bed of pillows, and then make a run for it so they could chase me. Very quickly after this day I learned to never wear socks when two little boys are chasing you. I took a sharp left turn from the entryway into the living room, and there my balance failed me. I laid there on the floor clutching my leg which later produced a baseball sized bruise. Since when do I bruise like that?

My agony was quickly forgotten when two bubbly boys ran over to my rescue. “Oh wait,” I realized. They’re boys. They ran over not to help me up, but to climb all over me, and laugh hysterically at my fall as if I had put on the greatest show for them. And you know… they made that embarassing tumble all the better.

This happened almost three months ago. Three months and I still remember how sweet it was. In that short amount of time baby Grant has started eating solids, preparing himself to crawl, and growing too much week by week.

I’ve developed these three little emotional attachments that I think about when it’s quiet at home.. All weekend, when it seems like forever since I’ve seen them.. And pretty much whenever somone talks to me about children. These three attachments.. they’re the little boys I nanny. Most days I’m left with sidewalk chalk on my boots, and mashed peas on my pants. I come home telling B stories about my new favorite book to read Eggbert the Slightly Cracked Egg, who travels the world painting famous cracked things like the liberty bell, and volcanos and such.

Last week my lunch buddy was making silly faces at me with his peanut butter and honey sandwich. Today, I played peek-a-boo for I don’t even know how long, because baby giggles make time stand still. Baby hands reaching out for your face melt your heart. They make it way too hard to ever stop.

This job… It’s packed with the sweetest moments I’ve ever been a part of.