Loving your job too much in Ups and Downs

Loving your job is a really positive thing to keep you going. Plus working with children is especially rewarding (to me). Happy children and satisfied parents keep me motivated to carry on.
Working in the preschool for 6 years following a certain schedule made my biological rhythm kind of automatized and kept my mind working alongside the curricula even out of school.
Taking up a weekend job as a Nanny made a bit of a difference. A big difference. ‘’This is not a school. Just let the children do what they want’’ was what I was asked by the family. It’s true. Being in your home environment you don’t want to be told what to do, or made doing activities as in school whether you are a child, or adult. Home should be the feeling of security and peace.
So children want to hunt for bugs, we hunt for bugs. If they want to make a cup of jelly, we make a cup of jelly. If they want to make a whole bowl full of jelly, we make a whole bowl full of jelly. Playing with boys includes rough and tumble most of the time, or almost all the time.
That day, the child started to run and wanted everybody to chase him. What a fun. We played this almost every day in the garden and sometimes in the house, too. But this day it turned dramatic for me. As my 3 year old, the cutest, the sweetest (and the most physically active) run away, I started to chase him. He suddenly turned around and was almost under my feet. As I quickly realized he is there, not wanting to run over him, I made that sudden unlucky move. Twisted around and fell straight on my finger. That time I didn’t realize my hand was broken. I just put ice on the spot and hoped the pain would vanish. We only played quiet games that day though.
Still came back to work next day. Children were sweet, we only rested, did some drawing, playdough, played with cars. My hand wasn’t changing for the better at all. On top of everything it started becoming purple. So I was keen on to go to The Emergency.
And there it was. The metacarpal bone broke in half, twisted apart and needed an operation.
Made me think, “How could that happen? We just played chase, I tried to keep the children safe, I wanted them to have fun, What happens next? Would they still want me to work for them? Would they support me? Etc
In the conclusion of the whole contemplating I decided, I am glad. Glad it happened to me. Yes, to me.
Not being able to work gave me time to prepare for my further studies. I stayed in bed, covered in books, going throught all of the interesting psychological topics and got enthusiastic about studying this subject for the following couple of years.
But. Planning to study, I have saved up to be able to pay my school fees without taking a loan. Not being able to work for a month started frustrating me. I have never received any sick pay, or compensation, neither paid holiday. Couldn’t work for over a month, therefore my saved up sum for my school fees also paid my rent and living. After the operation it took me about 4 months to make my fingers move. Even though, my hand is so week, I can’t hold a pan when cooking, can’t tie my shoelaces properly. The tension under the scar can be a bit painful.
Still, I am glad it happened to Me.