auntie to the 19th power

#19

portland, oregon welcomed a new citizen 2 weeks ago when my brother jay and his beeyooteefull wife had their first baby.  he’s pretty cute and, judging from his parents, will only get cuter.  my brother posted a cute little video of the new baby boy max hiccupping while my brother giggles like a school girl in the background.  classic jay.  and little max makes 19, 19 nieces and nephews.  since i was 11 months old i’ve been an aunt and the older i get the more i appreciate the differences and characteristics of these people my brothers and sisters have produced.  the oldest of the 19 even got married a little while ago.  married.  what. the. eff??  talk about making me feel not only old, but like the biggest loser ever.  my nephew, 11 months my junior, beat me to the altar.  so not fair.

speaking of nephews, i like to try to take my sister jen’s 2 sons out for little trips and whatnot.  they’re the perfect ages (10 and 12) although they are definitely mature for their ages.  they don’t whine or complain or cry.  like when i took them to six flags discovery kingdom in vallejo last year, they were perfect!  they didn’t bitch or moan or beg for anything.  they are polite, but fun, you know?  and this is coming from me, a chick aspiring to never have kids of her own.  i don’t love kids, i just love certain kids.  i love those two boys.  so since the oldest of the two was out of town for spring break, i took the younger one to the movies.  originally i wanted to take them both to a skate park that sounded super awesome over in santa cruz, but their mom, my sister, thought it might not be a good idea since they’re still young and the kids at the park might pick on them for not being “local.”  i get it– kids in santa cruz can be on weird side.  so, the nephew chose to see “knowing,” partly because it was the only choice beside the hannah montana movie that wasn’t rated r.  i thought “knowing” might be creepy and it totally was.  i hate creepy/scariness because i totally internalize movies like that until i convince myself that whatever horrible disaster is torturing the characters in the  movie will soon effect moi.  so the nephew told everybody the next day that “auntie cait cried.”  first off, i didn’t cry from fear, i teared up when nicholas cage had to leave his son, ok?  it was kinda sad!  i did however hide behind my hands everytime those creepy staring guys showed up.  whatev, nate, i’m not ashamed.

weezer said it best...

i’m surprised i had any tears left in my eyeballs anyway.  i spent the whole previous weekend bawling my eyes out while watching movies.  “seven pounds” tore me up so bad the boyfriend was looking at me like i had lost my damn mind.  but, hello?  that movie is effing sad!!  i cried so hard that i gave myself a nasty headache.  then i watched “bobby,” a movie about robert f. kennedey’s assassanation.  i cried because of what america lost that day.  he was a revolutionary, he was obama but 40 years early.  i guess the country wasn’t ready for him.  but i cried because i felt the loss, i cried because he could have been great.  i cried because he was taken too soon.  i cried for my country.  then after i watched “milk” (finally) and felt the loss of harvey milk, a man who did such great things for the gay community, but who was still too radical in 1978 for some people.  what would he think of the progress that’s been made?  or would he see how far there is still to go?  i cried for him and for george moscone and for the people those men inspired and for those he didn’t get to inspire because dan white ate some damn twinkies and got away with murder.  i had to ask my parents (born in 1940 and 1948, respectively) how did they live through those years?  i had to ask how they felt watching every single symbol for hope or change be gunned down before they could realized their dreams.  mlk

..."say it ain't soooooooo..."

jr, jfk, rfk, malcom x, harvey milk, john lennon.  it makes you appreciate pres. obama even more because he made it to the top, he followed in the footsteps of the great men who went before him and then kept going to create footsteps of his own.

it almost makes me want to cry.