niece

I got swagger. Do you?

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I heard someone say this yesterday: “I got swagger.” I thought to myself: “I got swagger, maybe not today, but I got swagger.” Yesterday was a strange day. I felt an array of emotions, from anger, frustration, to laughter, sass, and yes swagger.

How do we keep our swagger? I think of all the people who I have looked up to in my life. Those that have inspired me, made my jaw drop, or just had me often say: Wow. They are the people who make us think differently. A professor in college had swagger. She had a way of making you enamored with her. You wanted her opinion, craved her attention, and missed her when she was not around. She had swagger.

My niece has swagger. I have been watching kids on and off since I was nine. From all the kids I have taken care of, to the 6 week old and up children I took care of at a day care during college, to my friend’s kids, my niece has got it. Of course I am biased, how can I not be, but that kid lights up a room, makes you laugh, and has something very special about her. I mean look at this photo. (She is the blond at the back of the circle of girls that all want to dote on her.) Swagger.

My husband has swagger. I cannot handle frustrating customer service situations. I have lived in that world too long, that when I have a shitty experience I go volatile and cannot handle the fact that I get sub-par service. He handles it with poise, firmness, and patience. That man has swagger.

A friend is going through a hard time in her marriage. She is working it through in her way. She is so selfless at work and with her child. She makes us all laugh, keeps it real, and tells it like it is. She has swagger.

I tell it like it is almost always (I do have a tiny filter when really needed). I suck the life out of my day. I love people, helping them, listening, and doing what I can to be there for them. I am a bit sassy. I got swagger.

Do you?

Screamin’

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As some of you may know I am utterly addicted to my niece, Charlie. I have shared a few photos and a video or two on my blog in the past few months. I constantly ask my sister to send photos and videos since we live in different states. Charlie is just days away from being 7 months, and is a hilariously happy, smiley, precious one. I can only hope my future kid(s) are as happy as Charlie. Yesterday, I got this text from my sister:

“Charlie’s piano playing sounds like the audio of a haunted house and it makes the cats flee.”

Her text was followed by this video and photo. Apparently, Charlie had on her own (while banging on the keys) found a “Scream” setting on the keyboard. I guess she is practicing for Halloween in a month.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=esHjn8HWnDo&feature=youtu.be

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IMG_3807How can you not find her so adorable? Especially at about 12 seconds in where she turns and smiles at you and then turns back and plays more. Then at around 30 seconds she crouches down as though she thinks she can get out of the barricade they have created in the living room to keep her safe and from crawling to other parts of the house. When she realizes she is not getting out, she goes back to banging on the keyboard. I know, I know you already watched it, but I had to give my play-by-play. Can you tell how addicted I am?

My niece is da bomb.

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I just spent the weekend with my niece, Charlie (nickname for Charlise). I am utterly addicted to her. She has not even been gone for 24 hours and I miss her so much. What is it about little munchkins that make our hearts yearn for them?

My sister and I had a conversation during our last visit over a month ago, about being connected to children in ways that our parents were not connected to us. Part of that is about paying attention to their wants, needs and being present. I know it is a different era, but I grew up in one (of which I have said often) where my father felt that children should be seen and not heard. Maybe I was grossly offended by this, tainted, what have you, but I am definitely not going to have my kid(s) nor my niece(s), nephew feel that they should not be heard. Their voice matters. I watch the deep love my sister has for Charlie. It is so clear that Charlie is so loved. My sister does not complain, you can see her yearn for her time with Charlie, it is as if she knows so deeply that this precious time will not last, and she is going to make sure Charlie has a different childhood than she had.

Our childhood story is bigger than just not being heard. My mom had an at home day care when I was very young, and yet I do not remember her ever being (that I can remember) the touchy, hugger, cuddler type. My dad became more of a hugger once I was in college. My grandma was even less of a hugger. So, maybe that was why my mom was not much for cuddles. Fast forward to my sister and me. Before Charlie we were not really that into hugging. Yet, with Chris I am a hard-core hugger. I need my daily…well multiple times a day hugs from him. I love hugs. I want to start my day with one, I want to end my day with one. I would take a deep intense hug over a kiss any day. I strongly believe that somehow Charlie has made my sister and me connect on a deeper level. Almost like Charlie has broken the years of non-hugging brought about by my childhood family. Thank you, Charlie!

I wonder, do we give our kids what we never had? Did my sister and I crave that kind of connection and family that she is now giving Charlie? I love Charlie with a depth and yet I have only seen her a total of three weekends. Where does that come from? Where does that love so deep and so extensive show up and we know we are never the same without this precious munchkin in our world? We want to make them laugh and giggle. We want to cuddle, snuggle, and never forget their smell.

Like I said. My niece is da bomb.

Directness and Transparency

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I am not sure why I feel inspiration about this topic at the moment, but for some reason I have been thinking about directness and transparency. There was a time in my life where I would have hidden from you. You know when you see the child hide behind their parent’s leg, only peeking out to see if it was safe? That was me. My father used to scare me, and often I just was the quiet soul. Yes, you could bring me out of my quietness, you could get me comfortable and make me laugh, but if I thought there was a place of fear or conflict I would usually retreat back into myself. However, the old ladies at church did not scare me and I usually put on the charm for them.

Something happened as I continued to evolve into myself. Maybe it was losing my parents at a young age. Maybe it was seeing so many people hide their feelings and not be honest with themselves or those around them. Somehow I started talking and well I guess I have not stopped. If you interact with me on a daily basis you know you will hear exactly what is on my mind. You will know when I am happy, or sad, or frustrated. You will be able to see it on my face or you will know by how I respond. How exuberant I am to help and support you, or how short I am with a response. You will learn that I love deeply. You will learn to never mess with someone I love.

All of that comes out with my directness and transparency. There are times where I could probably be more careful with my delivery. I am aware of that and I try to be careful with the audience I am around. However, if I am comfortable with you, and we share our day-to-day life, I will probably tell you when my basement floods or when I have just received the perfect POTD (Picture of the Day) of my niece. You know the days when you are so utterly frustrated and you see the look on their precious little face and you are transported to a different world and you inhale and remember none of this really matters except the irresistible snuggles and coos of a little one? I have a video on my phone of my niece, Charlie, that I have been playing on repeat over the past week or so. She is cooing at herself in the mirror and I just want to eat her up.

I digress. You just witnessed a bit of my transparency and brain-barf of what is on my mind (I just paused to watch the video of Charlie again). I hope you live your days and moments in full transparency, without fear of what people think. Be direct. Say what you think.

#lifeistooshort

“i carry your heart with me”

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Over the weekend I got sucked into the movie “In Her Shoes” with Toni Collette, Cameron Diaz, and Shirley MacLaine. It has been years since I have seen it, but for some reason I was enraptured as though it was the first time I watched it. The sister story line, the death of their mom, and then the interwoven story with a long-lost grandmother, and a clueless dad, kept me engaged even though I had a list of things I wanted to do. I had forgotten the ending too. Cameron Diaz reads an e.e. cummings poem: “i carry your heart with me” to her sister during her wedding. It brought tears to my eyes.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

It makes me think of Chris. For those of you who know me, or have been reading this blog for a while, you know that I am addicted to my husband. This precious poem makes me think of him with immense love and gratitude. It also makes me think of my sister and my 2 month old niece. I am sure my sister will think of little Charlie if she reads this blog. It also makes me think of my mom, my dad, and my grandma, so it serves those we have lost. Such a timeless, versatile, and expansive poem. Of course, it also makes me want to write in all lower case.

In case you want to remind yourself, here is the excerpt of Cameron Diaz reading this poem to her sister:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3m6vWsrMIU