Family, Me, Myself and I

The Things I’ve Wanted to Say

You’re seventeen years old today. SEVENTEEN! For nearly seventeen years, I’ve had the honor and privilege to watch you grow. There are so many things I’ve wanted to say to you over the years about you growing up, there’s no way I can fit it all into one note. But if I’ve learned nothing recently, it’s to say what I really want to say before it’s too late, so I’m going to give it a shot.

I adore you. Both. I always have.

I remember you sprinting up and down the bleachers at your uncle’s football games before I knew your mom, Papa, Nana, or the many others in your life who love you. In fact I can honestly say that, perhaps behind Scoot, you were the first people in your family that I fell in love with.

Lil, as you figured out how to talk, you’d call out to me, “Emmmmmmmmm,” with the same wry smile I see you flash today. You’ve always known just what inflection to put into your voice, just what glimmer to put into your eye, just what to say to make me melt at your feet and do whatever I could to protect you and show you how awesome you are.

Lid, you’ve always been one part stoic plus a bit of goofy, a smidge of responsible, a dash of childish and a pinch of mature. Your dimples show your lightheartedness while your eyes tell the tale of someone who is intensely driven. You’ve spent your life balancing your fierce independence with your intense loyalty.

I’m so incredibly proud of the men you’re becoming. You make your share of mistakes. I know you expect me to tell you that. (I’ve never been much of a bullshitter.) But you’re learning, growing, changing, evolving. And I could not be happier.

Though I know you’ll accuse me of getting too sappy (You? Accuse me? Of sap? Never!!!), I do feel the need to tell you a few things that have been sitting on my mind for a while, things I don’t ever want to regret not telling you.

Most importantly, your family (including me) loves you very, very much. Your mom, no matter how much of a “mom” she may seem to you now, has given her all to put you first in her life. Maybe you “get” it now, maybe it’ll take a few years, but you are everything to her. Sure she isn’t perfect…I trust you know by now that none of us are…but you are lucky to have her in your corner.

Your Papa and Nana have both given much for you – of themselves, their homes and their time. They love you with an intensity that could move mountains. They’ve needed you in their lives this year more than ever. Continue to be there for them.

Your uncles have, at different times, shown you how to be goofy boys, responsible men and loving husbands and fathers. I hope that you see the roles they play not only in your life, but in others’ lives and that you’ll take them heart, not just today, but for many years to come.

I can’t speak for any of these people, or for your other family members who take you to the movies or to dinner, who make you quilts or *cough* let you beat them at video games *ahem*, but what I can tell you is that you are surrounded by love. And really, that’s sort of all that matters in life. Love.

And that leads me to a subject I’ve long wanted to talk about but haven’t ever really been able to broach. What is love? What does it mean? How do you know if you’ve seen it? It’s quite hard to tell you, really, because love is a whole lot of words and no words at all. And the real answer is, you don’t. But let me tell you how I’ve experienced it.

When I first met your uncle, he was a high school kid living with his mom and sister who recently had twins. After waking up and getting himself to school, he’d head to basketball or football practice, come home, do his homework, play some video games, go to bed, and then wake up in the middle of the night to help his sister, not much older than him, to feed his infant nephews so she could carry on with the difficult task of finishing college while taking care of newborns and performing as a high-caliber athlete. That? Was love. Of your mom and of you.

I’m not sure how else to say this…If you ever enter into a relationship with a girl who doesn’t “let” you engage in that type of role for someone in your family, run as fast as you can away from her. Never let a girl talk disrespectfully about your mom. Any girl worth your time will see what your dedication to your own family portends for her own future. If she doesn’t honor your family, she will not honor you. It’s really as simple as that. (In fact, it was because of the role Scoot played in your lives that I knew, at your age, that he’d make a great dad. And I have to say, I was quite right.)

Yet your uncle was one of the many people who wanted to play a positive role in your lives. It’s a role that, while obviously different, correlates closely with the role that you, as the eldest cousins, now play in the lives of three little boys who look up to you. When you were younger than “Baby Quinn” is now, your uncles and Papa all were given this picture of you along with the following poem.

There are little eyes upon you

and they’re watching night and day.

There are little ears that quickly

take in every word you say.

There are little hands all eager

to do anything you do;

And a little boy who’s dreaming

of the day he’ll be like you.

You’re the little fellow’s idol,

you’re the wisest of the wise.

In his little mind about you

no suspicions ever rise.

He believes in you devoutly,

holds all you say and do;

He will say and do, in your way

when he’s grown up just like you.

There’s a wide-eyed little fellow

who believes you’re always right;

and his eyes are always opened,

and he watches day and night.

You are setting an example

every day in all you do;

For the little boy who’s waiting

to grow up to be like you.

I hope that as I pass this poem onto you, you’ll find joy in having your younger family members look up to you. I hope you’ll find pride in living your life the way you want them to someday live it.

KNK, I love you. I have to believe it’s tough to have a sappy auntie like me always saying it, but it’s absolutely true that I’m always here for you if you need me.

I hope you had an awesome 17th birthday.

Love,

Your Auntie Emmie

Nov 24 2011

Feed America for just $1

When we picked DJ up from school last week, he asked if he could choose an ornament from his after school program’s “Adopt a Family” tree. “Of course,” we said. After careful consideration, he chose to take responsibility for buying an 8-year-old boy (his age) a pair of pajamas.

We went to the store and picked out a pair. Knowing nothing about this boy, it was tough to figure out what size to get (DJ himself is often between sizes). I suggested that we get a slightly larger size because flannel pajamas were likely to shrink when they were washed.

“But, mom, I don’t think they have a washing machine,” he said.

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“They might live in a car. You know, some kids don’t have houses like we do.”

We’ve been working to teach DJ about giving to others who don’t have access to the things we do. Each year, he goes through his playroom and donates his toys to kids who aren’t as fortunate. He sets aside one-third of his modest allowance to give to charities of his choice. It’s not easy giving on a budget. That has become all that much more obvious over the past few years as we’ve had to cut back our own charitable giving budget. That is exactly why I was so impressed when Megan told me about Feeding America and asked me to help.

The programs offered by Feeding America are vast – from a nationwide network of supported food banks, to programs to supplement government poverty programs that are constantly on the chopping block given our economy, to disaster relief for those facing an unforeseen emergency. These programs help the nearly 49 million Americans – including an astonishing 1 in 5 American children – who go hungry every day.

With just $1, Feeding America can provide 8 nutritious meals to those in need. EIGHT!!!! $5 = 40 meals! $25 = 200!!!

DJ and I talked about how much we feel comfortable giving. What about you? You can click here to donate. When you’re done, head on over to Undomestic Diva’s blog, leave her one comment for every $5 you donate and you can win a $50 gift card to Starbucks.

And if you need help, you can head over to Feeding America’s site to find out more.

May you all have a very happy Thanksgiving.

Nov 01 2011

6 Comments

Blogging, Friends, Just for Fun, Lemons, Me, Myself and I

Those Who Wish to Sing: Operation Eleanor

When I got the text from my BFF Megan challenging me to take part in Operation Eleanor, it took me all of 2.2 seconds to send a simple reply: It’s on.

For the past two weeks, I’ve been thinking about what scares me, what fears I’m ready to overcome. The more I’ve thought about it, and worried about whether I’d be able to accopmlish what feels like 30 daunting tasks, the more I’m reminded of one of my favorite sayings:

Those who wish to sing always find a song.

No excuses. I’m just going to do it. I will overcome my fears – some big, some small. But I will show myself that I can. I won’t blog about all of them (for instance, I can’t write about today’s as it’s work-related) but I expect to check in and let you know how it’s going. Ready? Set. Let’s go!

Oct 16 2011

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Elementary School, Facebook, Family, Just for Fun, Lemons, Me, Myself and I, My Boys, Our 'Hood, Parenting, Sports

There Is No “I” in Fan

I can’t stand fickle sports fans. Ironically, I frequently have one in DJ. He doesn’t mean to be one, he just doesn’t know any better. He feels emotionally drawn to many geographies so I was super proud of his response when, on the way to the Sacramento Mountain Lions v. Virginia Destroyers game yesterday, I asked him who he’d root for. “Virginia,” he said. “Why, because daddy played with their quarterback and was coached by their coaches when he was in college?” I asked. “No,” he replied, “because that’s where I’m from.”

This conversation about which ‘hood he claims goes back a few weeks when he inquisitively asked which rappers were from Virginia as he failed to connect with 2Pac and Dr. Dre’s “California Love” the way his parents do. He moved from the Commonwealth to California when he was just three and, while he’s as much of a Cali boy and the next kid in my mind, he feels drawn to the place he was born.

It’s a feeling I understand well as I moved away from the state of my birth as a toddler and then, again, moved in the middle of elementary school to California. In the years since I’ve tried to figure out what I consider to be my “hometown.” (Imagine the angst when Facebook asked me to make such a public declaration.)

For me, my “hometown” claim as a sports fan was complicated by the fact that, just two months after I moved to the San Francisco Bay Area, the SF Giants met the St. Louis Cardinals in the National League Championship Series. I was raised on Cardinals baseball (and football, by the way…why they’re in Phoenix and the L.A. Rams are in my town still baffles me). My earliest baseball memory was being allowed, at a month shy of four years old, to stay up to watch the Cardinals win the 1982 World Series at our townhouse in the St. Louis suburbs. (It’s also the first time I remember my mom being mad at my dad. Heh.)

In the years between then and our move west, my dad took me to Busch Stadium to see the likes of Ozzie Smith and Willie McGee while teaching me how to score a baseball game and heckle an opponent. My pet mouse was named Whitey Herzog.

When the Cards played the Giants, I wasn’t sure just who to root for as the new kid trying to fit in with a school full of Giants fans. Luckily I had little to do with the fate of either team. Yet somehow, I gave myself the leeway to root for the triumphant Cards as they faced the Twins in that World Series, the Oakland A’s as they faced the Dodgers the following year, and then the Giants as they met the A’s in ’89 in the Bay Bridge Series (a series memorable not only for baseball but the earthquake that literally rocked the local fans to our core).

And so, as it has been since, I rooted for the Giants as they made their way to the World Series last year. Now that they’ve imploded, however, I will admit that I “liked” the breaking news from CNN on my FB News Feed that the Cards, my first baseball love, had made it to the World Series (a “like” I gave despite not being able to name a single player from their team.) How’s that for fickle?

But it’s hard out there for a kid…a kid who, for a third of a century, has felt disconnected from all geographic ties of her own. And it is with that experience that I try to cut my own child, a kid who likes the SF 49ers and the Miami Heat, the Sacramento Kings and the Stanford Cardinal, the Scarlet Knights of Rutgers and…the Virginia Destroyers, a bit of a break as he tries to figure out his own definition of “hometown” and which hometown team belongs to him.

Aug 15 2011

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Blogging, Child Care, Facebook, Friends, Lemons, Me, Myself and I, Vacation, Work

On Friendship: My Failure and Renewed Hope

I’ve not always been the best friend. I’ve hurt. And I’ve been hurt. I’ve moved away. I’ve been deserted. After Scoot and I became serious during my junior year of high school, I – intentionally or not – swore off trying very hard at friendship. What was the point?

The girls who were my age were trying to get as far away from their parents as possible while I was devoting my entire being to keeping alive my long-distance relationship with Scoot, whose mom lives just two miles from my own. They were planning for their post-college travels around the world while I was planning my wedding in our hometown. They were renting apartments with roommates in Los Angeles and New York and San Francisco while I took out a mortgage on a home in the suburbs with room for a nursery for my young son. I had a very hard time relating.

Women who were in a similar life stage to me were planning their weddings while shuffling their meeting schedules at work. They were spending $1600 a month on nannies while I was making grocery shopping lists to include ramen, Hamburger Helper and macaroni and cheese so I could afford the $200 per week I had to spend on daycare. And at work, when I sat down for my annual review, it was they who would evaluate me on my performance throughout the prior year. I had a very hard time relating.

Recently, in large part because of what I discovered when I was introduced to the world of online social networks, I have established friendships. With genuine friends. The kind with whom I can gossip about that girl. The kind with whom I can lament about my day. The kind with whom I can share my frustrations and fears and tears and hopes. The kind with whom I laugh. And laugh. And text. And laugh.

In return, they’ve shared their loves, their losses, their triumphs, their sorrows. I hear about what they ate for breakfast and minutes later, the one thing they want their kids to know about them if they meet their end prematurely. I hear about the guy who tried to talk to them when they’re happily married. I get advice about health matters. I advise them on their resumes. I get drunk texts. With pictures!

I’ve been kept company in the hospital for 48 hours through a small device that meant constant conversation. I’ve watched a minor illness turn into a major health problem. With IVs. And surgeries. And tests. And uncertainty. I’ve seen pregnancy test strips and ultrasounds and newly born babies and crawling toddlers. I’ve celebrated romance and birthdays and New Year’s Eve and just because. I’ve watched them jump out of airplanes, and jump into love. I’ve watched doubt and despair and divorce. I’ve seen them hurt and healed.

I’ve felt. I’ve felt friendship. I’ve felt all that it can be. I’ve felt all that I missed during that decade or so when I just didn’t feel like I could relate to my peers.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fears that I’ve deluded myself. Certainly the friend ending her relationship, that was never married, that makes more than I do, that makes less than me, that! has! nothing! but! girls! …certainly we will find something that divides us. And yet, thankfully, they’re still here. I’m still here, a believer in friendship.

I’m about to head out on a weekend away with one of my dearest friends with our four!!! boys all under the age of 9 (unfortunately, Bop can’t make it because of school). I’m looking forward to it for selfish reasons, and not so selfish ones. And when I come back I have another friend coming to visit, one who just moved to the area and who I hope to see much more often. And six weeks from now I’ll be celebrating yet another’s birthday with friends from around the country.

Ends up, I’m kind of digging this friend thing. And as simple and easy as that sounds, I have a very hard time explaining just how happy it makes me and how sincerely appreciative I am to be able to say it.

Feb 23 2011

3 Comments

Blogging, Elementary School, Facebook, Family, Food, Friends, Health & Exercise, Lemons, Me, Myself and I, My Boys, Parenting, Vacation, Work

If You’re Happy and You Know It

Hey, remember me? Yeah, I own this here little place of the interwebs. Nice to see you again. I could write a post (ok, I did…and decided not to hit publish…again) about where I’ve been but instead I thought I’d just cut to the chase and post something new. So here you go…

10 Things I Smiled About Today

1. The # I saw on the scale this morning.

2. Achieving my goal of getting up without hitting the snooze button.

3. DJ choosing to do his homework this morning (rather than tomorrow night) without any prompting.

4. Scoot baking cookies for the Mother-Son Dance Friday night.

5. Having enough calories left today to help be a taste tester of the aforementioned cookies.

6. Catching up with an old friend/colleague.

7. Seeing a new friend/colleague achieve well-deserved satisfaction.

8. Getting an email from my friend who seems to make it her life’s work to have me in stitches on a daily basis.

9. Looking at a calendar and realizing I will be seeing a bunch of my friends real soon.

10. Straightening my desk before I left the office for the night.

What made you smile today?

Oct 07 2010

3 Comments

Blogging, Business, Me, Myself and I, Politics, Work

Mah Smahrts Iz Showing

I’ve been super busy at work, which is a really good thing given this economy. In addition to the stuff I do for my clients, however, I’ve also been spearheading a project to get my whole office involved in blogging and tweeting about the Elections we have coming up in California. This is in coordination with a project that we’re running out of our DC office where some of my very smart colleagues are keeping up on all sorts of races around the country that people will care about.

So, since you’re my very best friend in the whole wide world (you are, right?), I thought you might be interesting in following this fun little project.

Here’s where we’re tweeting: @CalVoteImpact

Here’s where we blog: Virtual Vantage Points

And here is my first post: Boxer v. Fiorina: Five Trends to Watch

I hope to see you over there and please excuse me if I’m not hanging out wherever you’re used to seeing me. It takes a whole lot of brainpower to keep from accidentally tweeting about my kids’ ear infections and silly sayings from my work account, ifyaknowwhatimean.

Oct 05 2010

4 Comments

Friends, Just for Fun, Lemons, Me, Myself and I, Vacation

Life Is A Highway, I Wanna Ride It All Night Long

Oh, hi! Remember me? Me either. Sorry I’ve been AWOL. I have some explanations about my absence. Or not. I’m not quite sure yet. I’m still figuring things out. I’ve been in a weird place that requires me to pay attention to myself and the people who are closest to me, both friends and family.

But something compelled me to post. See, a couple of my friends have been writing their “30 Days of Truth,” but for some reason I’ve most closely followed Adam’s. He’s not actually posting over 30 days but rather is using the prompts when he needs them. (I’ll note that I’m pretty sure Adam hates lurkers and yet I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve commented on his posts. Sorry, dude.)

Today Adam posted about “Something I Hope to Do,” and that – combined with my drive to and from the Bay Area this weekend – just made me feel compelled to put this down on paper (or, the internet) so that I never forget it.

I hope to travel around the country with my family in an RV.

I know, it’s random. There are a million reasons for why I want to do this. The idea actually started when Scoot and I spent the days it took to move our family across the country fantasizing about quitting life as we knew it and taking up driving trucks. But that idea seemed a little impractical.

Our move across the country coincided with the release of Disney-Pixar’s Cars and, in the DVD special feature section, the director John Lassiter talks about the trip he took with his family in an RV. That seemed a little more realistic.

I have no idea if I could ever convince Scoot to do it. I know absolutely nothing about RVs (as a kid, my family camped the “real way” – in a tent) but it’s something I hope to do someday and so I’m using this post to make sure I don’t forget it.

Thanks for humoring me. I miss you more. I promise.

The. End. (for now)

Sep 11 2010

1 Comment

Holidays, Lemons, Me, Myself and I, My Boys, RIP

And Now These Three Remain…

This morning I talked to DJ about what happened on September 11, 2001. We talked about the people who flew airplanes into buildings, the fires that resulted, the ultimate sacrifice of brave men and women, both in uniform and out. His questions, his concern, were genuine and thoughtful and love-filled.

In the moments and days after 9/11, we showed that we’re still capable of the love that comes so naturally to children. Perhaps we have since forgotten.

May we work to once again show our brothers and sisters that kind of love; the love that our kids so easily embody. Today and always.

Never forget.

Aug 27 2010

10 Comments

Elementary School, Family, Friends, Me, Myself and I, My Boys, Our 'Hood, Parenting, RIP

PSA: Look Right

One day when I was in 8th grade, I returned home from my afterschool activities to tragic news. A 6th grader at my school had been killed riding her bike home earlier that afternoon.

I walked across my quiet residential street, to the place where she died – less than a block from her house. I looked at the makeshift shrine that was beginning to build. Her blood stained the street.

She had been riding her bike in the bike lane but she was going against traffic. According to reports, the driver who struck her had pulled up to a sleepy intersection and stopped at the stop sign. She looked to her left and, seeing no cars coming her way, she turned right. Right into that young girl. She wasn’t driving fast. She wasn’t drunk. She just made a simple, but deadly, mistake.

It was an accident. A tragic accident.

Every morning, I pull out of my driveway with my own precious cargo in tow. I see the children in our neighborhood walking and biking down our street to school. I creep to the end of my street and stop. I look left. I see no cars coming.

And then I look right. I imagine what it must have been like for that poor girl in the last moment of her life. I imagine what it must have been like for her friend who had split off from her just a block earlier and who, years later, told me she heard her friend scream but didn’t realize until later what exactly it was that she was hearing. I imagine what it must have been like for the girl’s mom who, I heard, was so heartbroken she moved away from the home they had once shared.

When you come up to an intersection. Please stop. Fully. Please look to both your left and your right. Please do your part to prevent something like this from happening to another family.

Life Behind the Curve

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