Day 19-Something you miss
Innocence…I miss innocence. As my little ones grow, I am fortunate enough to be able to see the world through their eyes. Mary thinks “wish flowers” are the best! When she blows them into the air, she watches them float away, and keeps her eyes on them to see where the last one will land. She stops to smell every flower and mentions how beautiful it is. She scrutinizes every crab she picks up, or every shell, or every rock, and marvels at how blue it is, or how sharp the corners are, or how smooth it is. Noah just figured out how to pull the chord on a little turtle that is attached to his exersaucer, and squeals with delight every time the music stops, before pulling the chord again. Levi loves walks outside, where his curiosity for the world is contagious, as he opens his blue eyes so big and takes it all in.I find myself saying, “Te gusta la flor?! Te gustan los pajaritos? Te gusta estar afuera?!” Do you like the flower? Do you like the birdies? You like being outside?!
I say to myself, “I’m not smelling that flower! Not since I’ll be dying from my (supposed) allergies later!” “I’m not putting my feet in that polluted water to get some shells. May need a tetanus shot later!” ” I’m not, I’m not, I’m not…” These are the words uttered constantly by someone who has lost their innocence, by someone who has been treated unfairly in life, by someone who doesn’t see the small and simple pleasures anymore because there is always a “but then such and such a thing could happen”. Having children really puts those things into perspective. I miss my innocence and not knowing things a lot less nowadays. I have let go of some of my I don’t think so’s and replaced them with well why the hell nots! I’ve been able to leave my tainted and skewed view of the world behind and have allowed myself to experience life all over again through the eyes of my 3 kids. Doesn’t mean that every once in a while I don’t forget, but I try my hardest to not take away those moments from my kids and corrupt them with my “buts”. I like living life like this much better…much, much better…
Ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you that I am the QUEEN of nicknames. I get it from my dad. Since I was little, I don’t remember my dad calling anyone in my family by their real names. My cousin Al was “Metralleta” because he spits like a machine gun when he talks. My cousin Steve always wore yellow shirts so my dad called him “Cheeseburger”, which was later shortened to cheese and that name has stuck ever since he was about 7. He’s 30 now. My sister Natasha, “Chuleta”. That means pork chop becasue she was a little porker when she was small. My sister Raquel was always Francésa, which means french woman, for her pale skin and European features. My brother, Sargento, sergeant, for his very serious, calm and no nonsense demeanor even as an infant. My 6’5″ tall cousin? “Lungo” or long in Italian. My cousin Elaine-Mary, who’s been dubbed MaryLou since infancy, had a screaming match with my uncle when she was 7 because he kept insisting that her name was not, in fact, Elaine MaryLou, and it was simply Elaine-Mary, and she cried…for days! And now, as we are all grown and surrounded by our own little circles and a growing family, that tradition of nicknames continues.
Callie – Babeski or Saumensch, the first is my made up German word for “little pig”, and the second is the actual German word for “little pig”
Mary – Coocoo, it’s just always been that since day one, which lately has been shortened to “Cooc’s”
Noah – Nene, means “boy” and we kept saying “nene lindo” and it stuck
Levi – Macho, because he was always making muscles when he was first born. Wita called him Macho Man, and it stuck!
In my family, nicknames are a right of passage. If you don’t have a nickname, it kinda means you’ve been overlooked, even though it kinda sucks to say that. So if we’re friends, and I shorten your name to just the first letter, or I make up some silly nickname, don’t get offended. You totally own some property in my heart….