Ode to...

Dear "Little" Brother,

Happy 15th Birthday! It is hard to believe that you are one year away from the legal age to drive. [Scary too.] I can still remember the day you were born - I was playing in the driveway with sidewalk chalk and hoping for a little sister. I decided that it was alright you were a boy when Mom first let me hold you. And now I'm so glad you were a boy. Mostly because you are a freaking awesome kid...but also because I didn't have to share clothes with anyone.

So my advice for the next year: 15 is sort of a tease of an age because you're not old enough to drive, vote, drink, buy porn or really anything fun. BUT the good part about being this age [and there is a good part, I swear] is that you have very few responsibilities. Once you drive, you have to worry about paying for gas and car repairs and you know, making sure you don't run over children or small animals. Then before you know it, you have college applications, jobs, bills, loans, obnoxious roommates....the list is endless. SO. Enjoy being 15. Enjoy doing lots of nothing while you can.

Hope you have a great birthday kiddo. I love you.

PS I sent your birthday card in the mail yesterday. So....you probably won't get it until Saturday. Sorry about that. I suck at sending out things on time.

Dear Staff of OIEE,

Today was my LAST day ever as a staff member. I cleaned out my desk, took a few items with me (like the infamous water bottle that Kat stuffed with Starburst) and said goodbye. It hasn't hit me yet that I will no longer be working there - which is probably a good thing considering I generally becoming a weepy blubbering MESS when it comes to goodbyes and endings. The finality of things coming to an end always knocks me off my feet a little bit, a small reminder that the clock is always ticking.

It could never be expressed how thankful I am for the opportunity to work with such incredible people. You have all become a second family to me - a home away from home. Thank you for all the help, advice, gentle criticism, food, FOOD and more food you have provided throughout the past year.

Erica....there aren't enough words in the English language for this goodbye. You were just my favorite person on the planet to work with. Besides being my boss, you have become such an important person in my life. It is sort of insane to me how similar we are....even though being your mini-me never quite made sense ;) I really will miss you so much. You better not tell next year's intern that she/he is your favorite.

You have all provided me with an unforgettable experience, an unparallelled sense of pride, and support in one of the most tumultous years of my life. Please know that I will take all of this with me and always be jealous of future students who get the chance to work with you all. They have no idea how freaking lucky they are. [Make sure you tell them.]

I love you all.

Well, well, well. Look who decided to blog.

Ok, I know. I left without any warning. I could make up an excuse as to why I left town without a goodbye and evidently too quickly to remember to take my beloved Mac with me. I could, but I won't. Because the truth is, it just slipped my mind to mention that I was going on vacation. And that I was PURPOSELY not bringing my computer with me in order to "unplug" for a little while. My intentions in unplugging were pure, to actually write in a notebook in hopes that it would encourage the creativity to flow and to read some of the books that are piling up.

I was successful in reading and the writing, well, there was some writing. It may not be the inspiring, eloquent, fresh and witty writing I hoped to produce. But it is writing nevertheless. And some of it may even make an appearance on this blog. If you are lucky.

Anyway. Vacation was fun, relaxing, blah blah blah. All the stuff vacations should be. It wasn't all play though. I went for work purposes...and I guess I worked a little. But mostly it was play.

Today I went to my little brother's Court of Honor ceremony where he accepted his Eagle Scout badge. For those of you unfamilar with the Boy Scouting world, Eagle Scout is a BIG deal. It's the highest rank you can get and (as I found out today) only 1 out of every 50 scouts every reach Eagle.

So, it was a big deal. Especially to my parents. And it was an exceptionally rare thing to see my brother, a really funny yet quiet kid get up and give a speech about his experience in scouting and what it has taught him about life. When my mom turned to glance at me, she smiled as tears welled up in my eyes. Because I have spent the better part of my life thinking of this kid as someone I needed to protect, to guide, to worry about, to scold when he stepped out of line, and to lead. I showed him how to build a good fort with couch cushions and made sure he never went too far from home when playing outside with the neighbors. And this little kid, who now at 6'2 towers over me, doesn't need his big sister to protect him. In fact, I'm pretty sure that if I was in physical danger, he would be the one to protect me. And it is just an overwhelming feeling of love and pride and all that mushy crap that you never realize you will feel for your siblings as you all become adults.

Wanna see some pictures? Ok good. It's getting a little too serious in here.



Not a great one, but that cup of coffee? Was spilled shortly after the picture was taken. On my brand. new. WHITE. shirt.



Zach getting one of his many citations.

And now for something completely different....



OoooO. Pretty Arionza mountains. And airplane wing. But more importantly, look. Mountains!




This is Luke. Or, my job for the week of vacation. Yeah, it's a pretty damn cute job.

Alright. I'm still jet-lagged and need to do laundry. 1 load down, 76 to go.

My father's daughter

I know a lot of people who try to avoid the inevitable transformation into their parents. People who hear themselves repeating phrases or habits used by their mother or father and cringe at the thought of becoming like them.

I am not one of those people. Maybe sometimes I catch myself saying something that is typical of my mom or dad and roll my eyes....but more often than not, I find myself sort of laughing as I can hear my mother saying - "Just wait until you have kids!" and coming to terms with the fact that yes, I will probably say that to my children as well.

My mom and I, well we have been best friends since I was in the womb I think. I have never seen my mom as "the enemy" as some kids see their parents and I have rarely been afraid to tell her something. When I am stressed, scared or confused, I still long for my mother's arms to be wrapped around me, no matter how far I am from home.

My father and I have not always had this harmonious relationship. Not that I didn't always love him or anything of the sort, but we butted heads. A lot. Mostly when I was in my early adolescence and, as my mother pointed out, mostly because we are so much alike. I used to cringe at this statement because, ugh, no - I am nothing like my father. I am nothing like this man who won't let me go to France at 16 and makes me do my chores before anything else and all the other crazy! unreasonable! things my dad subjected my poor, torturted teenage self.

Have you rolled your eyes yet? Good. I deserve it.

We had our differences and it was easy for me to dismiss him because I was still at the age where I had yet to see my parents as anything BUT my parents. To kids, parents aren't people - they are just mom and dad. You don't consider their lives before you were born, you don't think about the heartache, pain, triumph and achievement they have experienced before and even after you arrived. All you know is - I'm here now - pay attention to meeeeee.

Then one day, you open your eyes and you see people. Two people who fell in love, got married, and had some babies. Two people who struggled and worked tirelessly to make a home, to give you things you needed and even things you didn't need at all. You see a woman who chose a full time job that did not let out at five o'clock, but instead required a round the clock, 24-hour a day schedule with no vacation time, no 401k, no sick time and definitely no stock options. You see a man who at one point worked THREE jobs just to make sure all of his kids wanted for nothing.

I don't remember when my dad and I finally saw eye to eye, but I do remember what it felt like to be proud to have been born to such wonderful parents. My father transformed before my eyes from someone who restricted what I could do and made all kinds of rules for me to live by to someone who protected me, who had spent his life working so that I could be happy.

And the truth is, I am exactly like my father. I am stubborn and opinionated and hard-working. My love for the Red Sox, the outdoors, the weather, and good french toast all came from him. When I have car trouble or need advice on money, jobs, or life, it is without hesitation that I call him. When I revealed to my parents one of the hardest things I have ever had to tell anyone, it is my father who was first to tell me that is was ok, that he would love me no matter what.

He has been travelling all over the country the past few months for a new job and frequently he pops into my head. I wonder where he is at any given moment or what he is doing. I look forward to hearing about his latest excursion and of course discussing the Sox's latest victory (or defeat, the latter being more likely).

I am definitely my father's daughter.