I really like my niece and nephew. I really like my four other nephews too, but of course they belong more to the Eisenhauer clan and I don't see them as often so my preference to ridicule, harass, and spontaneously pants small children would seem odd in non-blood company.
I noticed the other day, after shoving Livvy sideways onto the sofa, that I might be treating her more as a little sister than a precious niece. I never had a little sister you know, but I was one (and still am), so the only lessons I learned on how to treat precious little ones came from bruiser Ellen who did not regard me as precious at all. She hit, slapped, shoved, and pantsed me, and now I find myself doing this to Liv when I want her to pay me some attention. Livvy is so bright and patient and cheerful that she seems to enjoy the abuse as much as I do.
Nick is more sensitive to my play ridicule, so I stopped that immediately. Could you imagine being mean to a precious little one?
Several Sundays ago at family dinner, I cut through the living room and saw that Nick and Liv were watching a monster truck race on tv. The contrast tickled me: sweet, gentle, delicate little children watching multiple roaring machines crushing other clumps of metal for a raucous crowd.
"Why are y'all watching that?" I asked.
"It's Monster Jam." Livvy said.
"What's that?"
"That's Sparkle Smash," she responded, referencing the truck zooming by. "She's a unicorn."
"Sparkle Smash? You know their names?" I guffawed. The camera cutaway to another truck waiting it's turn.
"Dat's gwave digga," Nick informed me.
"Grave Digger? Since when do y'all watch monster trucks?"
"We love da twucks!" Nick responded.
I recalled a monster truck rally I attended as a little girl and I remember finding it too-loud and excessively destructive. I remember thinking of the waste of it all when I was in elementary school. I'm tickled in particular by Livvy's interest.
Back in the dining room, I said to Ellen, "Your kids are watching a monster truck rally."
"Oh yeah!" she said enthusiastically, "They love the trucks. The rally comes here in March. We're going to take them to see it. They're so excited."
Later in the evening, Nick came rushing into the dining room with an urgent request. I don't remember what he said. It was something in the realm of needing someone to change the channel for him, but his deep sincerity mixed with his winsome lisp made us all bust out laughing. His expression melted from wide-eyed urgency to bashful amusement and he revealed the gap in his teeth with a big smile and then brought his ear to his shoulder.
It don't think it's possible for him to be any cuter.
Meanwhile, Liv is a big kid that knows things, and even explained a trendy jargon phrase for me. She's already more plugged in than I am. I love hearing about what goes on at school and what she likes and what she doesn't like. She has girlfriends she hangs out with and references, and I would love to sit in on their discussions.
I spend a lot of time thinking about what Nick and Liv will be like as teenagers, and twenty somethings, and then spouses and maybe parents. I wonder what sorts of innovations will emerge that they will adopt with the effortlessness that we took on cell phones. I wonder about the future of social media and traditional media and if there will be enough fresh water left when they are old, or if they'll have to go back to boiling salt water on the stove first. Who knows.
What sorts of jobs will they have and will they be good employees or the not-so-reliable but charming, beloved ones we've all shared a shift with? Which one of them will inherit Lee's gift of gab and impressions or Ellen's sense of urgency to complete any given task? Will they work hard to be kind even when it's not worth the trouble?
Oh I love to think about it. There is so much potential and so much good hoping to look forward to.
