I Am Aunt Di-Di

I'm in Chicago, visiting my mom, sister, brother-in-law, and my too-adorable for words 2 1/2 year-old nephew, Jake.  I haven't seen Jake in over a year and he was hesitant when I came in the door, clinging a bit to my sister's shoulder.  That quickly went away as we went into the living room and he pulled out every one of his toys to show me.  After deciding I was worthy, I quickly became the "go to" person for Jake.  Dinner need putting on the table? Aunt Di-Di had to do it.  A toy to be played with? Aunt Di-Di must play.  Book to be read?  Only if it's read by Aunt Di-Di.  I admit, I totally loved the attention.  It makes you feel special to be wanted by a two year old.

Special that is, until it came time to check the diaper.  "Jake, did you go potty?" asked my sister.  "C'mere and let me see."

"No!  Aunt Di-Di," came the reply.

All my relatives--who have a mean streak to them--burst out laughing.  My gag instinct where poop is involved is well known among family.  But Jake stood in front of me and turned around and was patiently waiting (amid snickers from everyone) so I pulled his pants out, took a quick peek, tried not to faint, and said, "Yup, you're dirty."

"Aunt Di-Di do it," said Jake, meaning he wanted me to change his diaper.  (More laughter from the mean relatives).

But that's where Aunt Di-Di had to draw the line.  I managed to stay in the room, but couldn't really go near the bed where my sister, rolling her eyes at me, changed him.

I'm staying at my mom's, and the next morning my sister called me and said, "We made pancakes and Jake saved one for Aunt Di-Di."  I reported this to my mom who said, "What about a pancake for Ba?" (He insists on calling my mom "Ba."  We have no idea why.  But when he calls for her he yells, "Ba!  Ba!") "You've been replaced," I smugly informed her.

Last night I read him a story in bed as he cuddled next to me, then he sang "You are my sunshine" which is the song he sings before bed, then he said his prayers and went to sleep.  He is just too precious for words.

I still don't want one of my own, but I love being "Aunt Di-Di."

"We're One of the Lucky Ones."

One of the women in my 6 AM yoga class is an Art Collector/Distributor.  She furnishes art to buildings, corporations and designers.  She has strong connections to several artists in Moldova, which is northeast of Romania and is one of the poorest nations in Europe.  She said she spoke to a woman there yesterday who said they were having a particularly harsh winter.  But, the woman added, "We're one of the lucky families.  We have heat."

Sentences like that put things in perspective, or at least allow a glimpse of how narrow a perspective we walk around with most days.  I'm spitting nails over my bathroom renovations being dragged out while this woman is thankful her family has heat. 

It's easy to take for granted how much we have to be grateful for.   And yet, while I'm embarrassed for the moment over how much energy I'm wasting on what is the trivial matter of a bathroom renovation, I also know perfectly well I'll be back to bitching and obsessing by early next week if the work isn't being done.  Why is that, do you suppose? Does it really take tragedy to make us grateful for what we had before the tragedy?  I hope not.  I like to think I'm capable of learning without being knocked flat in the head with it.

I've been telling Blair that something is going on for me lesson-wise with the Universe.   I have been embroiled in battles over the last 2 weeks with contractors, shop owners, and others over treatment I've received that I think is unfair or unacceptable.  And I've been nice, been nice, been nice, then reached my breaking point and gone in swinging.  I won't bore you with the details of why I didn't receive treatment appropriate to the situations.  I don't think the lesson is in whether I'm right or wrong in how I should have been treated.  The lesson is in how I respond when I don't get the reaction I want.

And yet, I'm not going to be a dishtowel and hang out while people walk over me and miss deadlines.  But I'm missing something, somewhere, about bringing balance to these situations.  It's just too big a coincidence that all these things are happening together in such a short time span and, although different situations, all strongly mirror one another.

I told Blair last night I'm so tired of being angry and harping on people. But stuff doesn't seem to get done unless I do that.  Certainly there are some control issues in there for me.  I still think I know best and if everyone would just act like I do and be on time and follow-up and accept responsibility everything would run a heck of a lot smoother. I'm not even going to try to work on the "My way is best mentality" because I don't have the lavish amount of time and money for therapy it would take to break that one.  But I would like to work on not letting myself tip over emotionally into anger and disgust when situations aren't handled the way I would prefer.   There's got to be a better way.

Here's hoping I find it. 

Decorating Diaries - There Be Tile

The "Tile Enthusiast" was here yesterday from 8 AM - 7 PM and got most of the tile laid.  He's coming back this afternoon to grout. I love the way it looks and can't wait for everything to dry so we can fire up that heated floor for the first time.

Poor tile guy--it's freezing in our bathroom.  Barely any heat reaches back there no matter how much we crank up the temperature.  That's why we went with a heated floor--to raise the temperature of the room. But this guy and the woman helping him spent all day on their knees on concrete in this freezing room.  I'm sure they're as ready to be done with this job as I am.

Not sure what's next.  More work to the shower and then tile guy will be back to tile it.  But I think we're close to being ready to install counters.  Too bad I'm going away this weekend.  It would be a great time to get in there and prime the walls before the toilet and countertops go in.  Less mess and fuss.  I might see if I can bribe Blair, who hates to paint, into at least splashing some primer on the wall behind where the commode will be.

Women Who Inspire Me

I met a fantastic group of women today at the Greensboro Women's Resource Center.  The Center is where I used to work as a Job-Search Program Coordinator for displaced homemakers, and I was there today teaching a class on Networking for the program I used to run.

I wasn't overly enthusiastic about going.  I've got a lot to do to get ready for my trip and really wanted to be at home in front of my computer. But I'm so grateful for having the opportunity to teach this wonderful group of women.  I'd forgotten how inspiring it is to be around the women in this program.  They make an 8-week commitment to attend class 2 days per week to work on all aspects of the job search so it's not an easy program to graduate from.  But every woman there is determined and motivated to change her life and follow her dreams.  Most of these women have so little (materially) but they have huge spirits and hearts and I walked away with an energy buzz just from spending 2 1/2 hours in the same room with them.

It was a wonderful reminder for me as I told them  (and I believe this) that they can accomplish anything they want.  That they are full of talents and passions and purpose.  That if they reach out a little first, the Universe will reach back tenfold.  I was saying to them the words I needed to hear myself.  And the group was so receptive, taking notes and asking questions that showed they were paying attention.  As they got excited about the networking process, I got excited right along with them. 

Having the chance to speak to them today was the best thing I could have had on my schedule.  It reminds me how lucky I am to be doing what I love with support from people I love.  And how important it is to give back and help others climb obstacles and reach their goals, so the chain continues.