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“When a three-year-old cups my face in his sticky little hands and whispers, most confidentially, “I am riding to church in your car because you…are…my…Nanny,” I lose all sense of anything but his dreamy eyes. When a two-year-old wakes in the night with boogies streaming out of his nose and cheeks as red as apples and wants only to lie across his Nonna (translation: Nanny), I don’t care what miserable toddler disease I catch; I only want to comfort him. When I’ve been out of the house from moon-to-moon, and crawl in from another long day of teaching and chauffeuring, and a wee baby tears his toothless mouth wide because he’s delighted to see me, I am energized.”