Happy Monday to all! I know, I know, shame on me; it’s been over a month since I last posted. I apologize and can only offer the feeble excuse that my life has been completely crazy lately. But I’m here now!
A little less than a year ago, I stood in a hospital corridor, pacing in front of a closed door. Inside I heard shouts of pain that made me cringe, because they came from my little sister (I say “little” in the same way an 80-year-old parent calls their 60-year-old child “young man”). Thankfully, it didn’t last long until I heard a cry of a different kind; the indignant wail of a baby, newly arrived into the world. The implications of it brought tears to my eyes as I rushed to the waiting room to tell my dad and brother—I was an aunt! My sister had given birth to a son, created a little life that we had been waiting to meet for months—ever since the first time he’d kicked, and as we caught glimpses of his active personality even in the womb. When I was invited in a few minutes later, and Sam told me to come meet my nephew, all it took was one look at his tiny red face, eyes shut tightly against the bright light of morning, and I was a total goner.
That sweet little nephew, Anthony Thomas (aka Squirmy), turns a year old in a few days, and what a year it’s been! I’m extremely lucky to be able to see him several times a week, and having him around has brought indescribable levels of joy to my life. It’s also taught me a LOT—who knew a newcomer to this world would have so much to teach a seasoned veteran? (okay, okay, SORTA a seasoned veteran. 24 years makes me a veteran, right?)
First, I learned that I am a hopeless sap when it comes to little ones. My poor friends have been subjected to Squirmy Stories probably every day for the last year, and they usually involve me either gushing about how adorable he is or being in tears because I love him just so dang much. I stopped apologizing for it months ago, because I know it’s just not going to change.
Secondly, I’ve discovered a love that I never really understood before—a love that makes me sentimental, as previously stated, but more than that, makes me fiercely protective. I would literally do ANYTHING to ensure that little boy’s well-being, even if it was detrimental to me. I’ve experienced love that would sacrifice for the happiness of another, but never a love like that coupled with the knowledge that the other party is, for all practical purposes, helpless. It adds a level of emotion that is almost physical, it’s so intense at times. We hear a lot about the love of a parent for their child; and while by no means minimizing that, nobody ever told me that the love one carries for their nieces and nephews is almost equally as strong. So it frankly caught me off guard a bit. O.o
Also, Squirm has shown me life lessons; that it’s possible to be cheerful regardless of your circumstances (I’ve seen that boy vomiting his little breakfast out and then turning right around and giggling at a silly face someone makes); that it’s the little moments that count, not just the big milestones; that falling down isn’t the end of the world, so long as you get right back up; that learning can take place in the most mundane of places; and that, to even the best of us, diaper explosions happen.
So here’s to my Lil Man, on this almost-one-year anniversary of his birth. I love you, kiddo! Being your auntie is more fun than I could ever have hoped for, and I look forward to watching you grow in the years to come.
Happy Birthday, Squirt!
I still gotta meet the little tyke.
ReplyDelete