Auntie isn’t grown-up

To my nieces, who are 2 and 4, I am simply �Auntie.� I am by far the favourite. When I go to visit I am treated like a rock star; there is yelling, screaming and lots of hugging going on. I never buy them toys, I don�t spoil them and I don�t talk like a little kid. All I do is simply listen and play with them.

I love to play.

I can spend hours playing hide and go seek, even though they watch where I hide. We can sit in the tree house and talk about how boys are sometimes yucky. (No boys allowed in the fort, except Uncle). We can sit and play Barbies for long periods of time; I usually do the clothes because I am the only one at this point who has coordination. Sometimes we take long walks together on the beach and scream when we find something. Sometimes we just scream as we run around the backyard. Sometimes we pretend to be in a royal palace as I serve them real tea and talk very fancy-like.

I think why I am the favourite with them isn�t because of what I buy them or because I let them get away with murder (I don�t), but because I haven�t forgotten how to play. I haven�t forgotten what it�s like to be impressed by the world, how fun repetition is (try doing Ring around the Rosie for 1/2hr � see if you can make it fun each time. We can!). I don�t forget what �special� means like how it�s special to have a bed put out for Auntie and how it�s even more special to be able to eat toast in it at 6AM. I don�t forget how important it is to want to be heard, to want to share a discovery, to want to learn everything you can. I don�t forget about the wonder. I don�t forget what it�s like to be four, when you want to be important and sometimes are made to feel like you aren�t. Heck, that can happen at any age.

I think these are the reasons why children are instinctually attracted to me. Wherever I go children stare at me or want to talk to me. I once met a 5 year old girl who didn�t talk to anyone, yet when she saw me she came running over to me and just talked a mile a minute while her mum looked on completely stunned. I think I bring this out because I am willing to listen, I am willing to be impressed and I am willing to believe in their world.

Tonight, my mum told me that my 4 year old niece said to her, �Auntie isn�t a grown up to Marcy (her 2 year old sister) and me. Only to you and mummy.�

That was the sweetest thing I had heard in a really long time.

August 21st, 2003 / Noted in Family & Friends

Emily

There are many reasons why I love her – her quirkiness, her humour, her kindness, her loyalty, her talents, her heart. But one of the biggest reasons is because for over ten years, my best-friend Emily has continously inspired me with her fearlessness, a quality you don’t find in many people. She’ll try anything – not to prove something to someone but to see what she can do for herself – and I love that.

Her recent leap has been in creating her own business. Forget the books, the years of planning, the wondering what if, Emily had an idea and dove right into it unafraid and unabashed. I love that, too.

Here’s to you, my friend.

June 26th, 2003 / Noted in Family & Friends

Real Romance

Being bedridden for the last several days, I’ve been subjected to too much pitiful women’s magazines. I have seen it all, the lies. It never really bothered me before, but it does now.

Valentines day.

Women bitching and moaning how their man doesn’t bring them flowers. People saying they won’t get married without the big ring. Men asking their women to put on sexy clothing and shake it like a hard martini.

Whatever. That’s not romance, that’s not love, that’s just illusion. If you want to build a relationship on that, you’re not building a strong foundation.

I’ll tell you what love is. Tomorrow I get to see my husband after being away from him for a week. I won’t be totally recognisable to him, my face all distorted and swollen with lots of stitches and blackened eyes. I move slowly, with effort, and my speech is very quiet. I won’t be able to run up to him when he picks me up, I won’t be able to kiss him and hugging him will have to be gently. But I know that he won’t mind one bit. To him, I’ll be the most beautiful girl. He’ll tell me how he missed me, he’ll care for me by making me tea and tucking me in at night. I won’t feel like an inconvenience or an ugly monster. He’ll be patient with me. He’ll love me.

That’s your romance right there. The other stuff, it’s either fluff or icing depending on what you already have. If he doesn’t buy you flowers every week or write you love poems by candle light every night, how much does that matter if you know you’re unconditionally loved?

We need to wake up and redefine romance and get real.Really.

February 8th, 2002 / Noted in Family & Friends, Favourite Entries