Not sure why I'm posting so many songs lately, your very own blogger DJ (hooker, waitress, model, actress). Regardless, today's song goes out to my niece who is not even a reader of this blog. Alas.
She was just a tiny little kid (one of the cutest, black haired, alabaster skinned kids ever) when I started dating the hubby a million years ago. I remember her reading a picture book aloud. She couldn't pronounce the Y in yellow; however, she called Indians, "yindians." "How can you say yindians and not yellow?" he asked and she started laughing. And then she started practicing her Ys.
We've watched from a far as she went through her goofy sock stage -- where she would wear two different crazy socks every day -- to her endless fascination, at a young age, with storm chasing. Of course, as the hubby's family is prone to intellectual pursuits, she was the valedictorian of her HS class and got a free ride not just to undergrad but also for her (not-just-one-but) two Master's degrees. She's now an environmentalist living in DC with her foodie boyfriend and having the time of her life.
Brainiac.
The one constant through all of these years: a love of Guster. When she was too young to go to alone, the hubby took her to her first Guster show. Tonight, she's going to her umpteenth Guster concert at Wolf Trap. My kids don't like the band at all but I have a bit of a sweet spot for them just because they remind me of Christine. All grown up.
Showing posts with label niece. Show all posts
Showing posts with label niece. Show all posts
Monday, August 15, 2011
Monday, December 10, 2007
Happy Birthday Leigh
My niece turned 18 yesterday. 18. I can't believe it. 18. Her brother is in his freshman year at Brown.
These are the two kids that turned my world upside down.
Throughout my childhood and well into my 20s, I never wanted to get married and I certainly never wanted to have kids. I simply never had that maternal instinct at all. I still am not one to look at other people's babies in strollers at the mall and get all mushy. It's just not my thing.
My best friend while growing up was Southern; her family moved here from Tennessee. She lived to get married and raise kids. Throughout our childhood, she would pepper me with unsettling questions that I had never thought about before: "What if we don't have dates to the prom?," "Will you wake up before your husband gets up to put your make-up on?," (Side note: He's lucky if I shave my legs on a quarterly basis) and "What do you think you will name your kids?" (Side note: We talked her out of Bambi -- her daughter owes me one).
She unabashedly went to college to find a husband whereas I went to postpone working for a few years. She found her husband while at home the summer after freshman year and has gone on to raise two great kids. I met my hubby the January after graduation but waited seven years to get married -- and only then agreed because he was my best friend and I couldn't imagine spending my life without him.
But in 1988 and 1989 something fabulous happened in my life. My sister-in-law and brother brought two of the most beautiful, perfect children into this world and my heart literally exploded. It was after hanging out with them as little kids, going to the Discovery Zone and McDonald's, watching them build sandcastles at the beach, drawing pictures for them ("That's a bulldozer? My mom draws way better bulldozers than that") and reading them stories that I thought to myself, "I think I might want kids . . . but only if I can clone these guys."
I still think the world of them except that they've set the bar a little high for my boys. They are great, great kids. Funny, interesting, kind, intelligent, well behaved, polite and high achievers. To the best of my knowledge, they are not partiers nor are they prone to engaging in the stupidity that was my trademark at their age. They are exactly how I want my kids to be -- in their own ways, of course.
These are the two kids that turned my world upside down.
Throughout my childhood and well into my 20s, I never wanted to get married and I certainly never wanted to have kids. I simply never had that maternal instinct at all. I still am not one to look at other people's babies in strollers at the mall and get all mushy. It's just not my thing.
My best friend while growing up was Southern; her family moved here from Tennessee. She lived to get married and raise kids. Throughout our childhood, she would pepper me with unsettling questions that I had never thought about before: "What if we don't have dates to the prom?," "Will you wake up before your husband gets up to put your make-up on?," (Side note: He's lucky if I shave my legs on a quarterly basis) and "What do you think you will name your kids?" (Side note: We talked her out of Bambi -- her daughter owes me one).
She unabashedly went to college to find a husband whereas I went to postpone working for a few years. She found her husband while at home the summer after freshman year and has gone on to raise two great kids. I met my hubby the January after graduation but waited seven years to get married -- and only then agreed because he was my best friend and I couldn't imagine spending my life without him.
But in 1988 and 1989 something fabulous happened in my life. My sister-in-law and brother brought two of the most beautiful, perfect children into this world and my heart literally exploded. It was after hanging out with them as little kids, going to the Discovery Zone and McDonald's, watching them build sandcastles at the beach, drawing pictures for them ("That's a bulldozer? My mom draws way better bulldozers than that") and reading them stories that I thought to myself, "I think I might want kids . . . but only if I can clone these guys."
I still think the world of them except that they've set the bar a little high for my boys. They are great, great kids. Funny, interesting, kind, intelligent, well behaved, polite and high achievers. To the best of my knowledge, they are not partiers nor are they prone to engaging in the stupidity that was my trademark at their age. They are exactly how I want my kids to be -- in their own ways, of course.
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