Little La and Aunty Me

The Pretty One and I were supposed to have our children at almost exactly the same time. I mean, we weren't planning on going into labor within minutes of each other, expertly coordinating the the breaking of water and cutting of umbilical cords. That would be so, so creepy. And The Pretty One and I are not creepy (in that way). But we had big plans to have kids around the same age at the same time. To practice living out this very well-coordinated future, we employed our very favorite baby dolls, Carie (yes, don't challenge the spelling, five year old Me doesn't care how it's supposed to be spelled) and La. Yes. La. (Now, don't you feel bad for making fun of my doll's name's spelling, when the Pretty One over here named her precious plastic offspring La?) I know. But she was a toddler. And the box the doll came in was labeled "La Bebe." Very French. Also, the Pretty One had a goldfish named Chuck E. Cheese, presumably because themed pizza/gaming joints were on her mind at the time. I think we can all see what kind of naming style the Pretty One has.

The Dictator, Aunty Pretty One and Me...but where oh where is La?

Anyway, Carie-with-one-R and La spent every waking minute of their baby/toddlerhoods together. Aunty Pretty One and Aunty Me took turns running the show, playing both ideal mother and indulgent aunt with deftness and grace, because we are amazing. And because our children were made of plastic. And because, in the case of The Pretty One, the child's eyes were stuck permanently closed, rendering her even more docile than the sometimes-wakeful Carie.

The Dictator and Anarchist ADORE their
Aunty Pretty One

Not that we didn't face our share of parenting challenges. Both Carie and La suffered from a rare allergy to everything but Applebits.* I know. You can't even begin to understand our struggles. But we were strong. And we had each other. Such a brilliant support network of sisters, aunts, mothers, rolled into one, feeding plastic beaded Applebits to our sightless plastic offspring with unlimited optimism and poise. I never once imagined being a parent without The Pretty One pushing a stroller at my side, my delightful hyper-allergic niece or nephew reaching into my little imp's stroller, cooing its love for its Aunty Me.

But, as we all know, grown-up life is not what we imagine in our youth. I don't know too many Ballerina-Princess-Firefighter-Doctor-Millionaires with flying ponies and a herd of well-trained kittens. Or, as young Me imagined, Female-priest/Supermom/Author/Musician/Eccentric College Professor/Woodland Cottage Dwellers with rooms full of books and a herd of well-trained llamas. It turns out certain life events happen when the time is right, whether we plan on them or not. And sometimes that means doing things without our sisters. Like having beautiful, surprising children before we've even had time to break the glass ceiling/get ordained/author life-changing literature/get a PhD and buy all those llamas. Sometimes lovely Dictators come into the world before their Aunts are ready to have beautiful babies of their own.

And so the plans were a little altered, the timing shifted a little, but some things were as we foresaw them. Some things were just a given. Although she was not made out of plastic, my Dictator was born allergic to almost everything, and, blessedly, with her eyes wide open. And the Pretty One was a fantastic Aunt, even if she did completely terrify herself by dropping a TV remote on the days-old Dictator's head. And then she was a fantastic aunt to my not-plastic Anarchist (born with her preemie eyes clamped shut).

But now I want my turn. I want to see The Pretty One be the lovely mommy I know she will be. And I want to be the indulgent Aunty Me that hands the baby back at the end of a visit, secure in the fact that I will not be the one waking up 87 times to feed it. I'm getting anxious. I want to meet real-life La Bebe.

And guess what? I'm going to super-super-soon! THE PRETTY ONE IS HAVING A BABY! I'M GOING TO BE AN AUNT!

The Pretty One is going to be, like, the bestest mommy EVER!

You guys, I'm going to be so good at this thing! It might not conform to our idyllic childhood dream of force-feeding plastic beads to oddly named, strangely well-behaved children who happen to be exactly the same age, but I think it's going to work out okay. Like, I will buy that kid all the sugary things. All of them. And I will watch it and let it stay up super-disgustingly late. And I will tell it to challenge authority. And I will probably even let the Anarchist babysit that thing! That will be one heck of an exciting social experiment. Because I have a feeling that The Pretty One is going to be such a fantastic parent, that this kid will need a dose of imperfect reality...and I am SO going to be that dose. Yippee!

Also, I get to revel in The Pretty One hopefully having a baby just like The Pretty One. Hopefully, the Pretty One's baby will take off its diaper and paint itself and its designer nursery with the contents. Hopefully. Hopefully it will scream its adorable little head off the vast majority of the time, and just at the last minute (before someone chucks it out a window), it will open its gigantic adorable eyes and melt every single heart in the room. Hopefully. Hopefully it will refuse to be held for a single split second...unless then the garbage truck is near, and then hopefully it will fling its terrified little self into the waiting arms of its loving mommy or daddy and refuse to leave until that stupid loud monster is gone. Hopefully. Hopefully, it will writhe its way out of every stroller and every high chair, and hopefully it will eat hard crushed candy off the filthy mall floor and dirt out of the garden, and convince its sibling(s) to eat Play-Doh and forbidden cookies. Hopefully.

The baby Pretty One was such a trip! Here's hoping her little
person will give her as much fun as she gave her family...

And hopefully it will be as sweet, and feisty, and charming, and full of life as its beautiful Mommy and wonderful Daddy. And most of all, more than anything, regardless of its gender or looks, I hope beyond all hopes that she will name the child La. Because that is what I will call it, both here and in real life. So she might as well go ahead and make it legal.

Because, while The Pretty One is the one of us more attached to tradition and sentiment, I can be stubborn and sentimental, too. And there are certain childhood dreams that I refuse to let die.

So, welcome, little niece/nephew La! Your Aunty Me loves you to pieces already. And she even promises not to drop a TV remote on your head. Hopefully.




*Applebits are small, colorful, plastic beads, ideal for doll allergies.