Be Kind, Rewind

Tonight I got to hang out with my nephews. My parents were babysitting, so Ken and I took the kids out to dinner to give Ma and Dad a little break. It was nice spending time alone with them. Soaking up all the silly moments of hanging with two eleven year-olds. Eleven is a funny age. They aren't little kids anymore, but they aren't quite adults. Although, lately they are shooting up like redwoods, (seriously ask my sister how much she spends replacing flood pants every other month)! I find it hilarious that one day my little guys, whose diapers I changed and boo-boos I kissed, will tower over me. And with the way they are growing, it's going to be sooner rather than later!

I love hanging out with them whenever I get the chance. The opportunities to do so seem to get fewer and fewer the older they get. Their lives are filled with school, baseball, hockey, and hanging with their friends. They have their own activities and interests now that fill their days. Playing hide and seek, baking cookies, and watching a Disney movie with Auntie just doesn't cut it anymore. No. Now they go to dances and Bruins games with their friends. Hell, Auntie isn't even considered as cool as she used to be! Before, they would take anything I said as gospel. Now my tastes and suggestions are "lame" and "cheesy." Me? Lame? When did that happen? And I almost crashed the car the other day when I heard one of them refer to a girl in his class as "hot." Apparently I am a bit lame, because that statement actually made me tear up.

But despite my shocking realization that they are no longer the chubby-faced cherubs that used to run me in circles, I am enjoying this age. I mean now we are listening to the same music, watching the same movies, and wearing similar clothes! Seeing the little men that they are becoming is fascinating. It makes me realize how fast they are growing up. This notion also made me stop and ponder how terribly long it has been since I was eleven! Let's travel back in time and relive what life was like and who I was at eleven, shall we?

The year was 1991. Ah yes, the beginning of the awkward years! I was in 6th at St. Anthony's School, and obviously the epitome of cool. No, not really. I was a nerd. Big time. I liked school, was a teacher's pet, and never got in trouble with my parents. Seriously, I could count the times I was punished on one hand. Without using my thumb.

I still wasn't sure how to interact with boys. Apparently kicking their asses in basketball at recess and beating them in arm wrestling for snack packs was no longer appropriate. I had yet to learn what cool clothes were, I was too young for make-up, and I was adamantly still rocking those five year old toddler bangs. You know, the blunt ones across the forehead that are never quite straight? So like I said, epitome of cool. Don't believe me? I give you my school picture from that year. Try to contain yourselves....

Enough said. And yes, that's right, I pilfered my brother's sweater (he was 19 at the time and clearly a bigger size). I thought it would totally rock if I matched the background. Nailed it right? Mmm hmm. This picture was so bad, that on the 8x10 my mom ordered, the dark sweater blended right into the dark background. Hence, my ever-so witty father dubbing this picture, for all eternity, as "The Floating Head Picture."

Despite my residence in Geekville, I was quite happy at this age. I had a great big family, a good group of friends, and was completely spoiled rotten. Not in a nasty or bratty way, but in a "I am the baby so I get everything I want" kind of way. Clearly there is a difference! My social life at this point? When I was eleven, afternoons were spent in the backyard with my cousins choreographing routines to Paula Abdul and Bobby Brown. We were good too. Damn good. Weekends were for sleepovers, bike riding, and playing SuperNintendo. School was filled with posterboard projects, tater tots, and kickball. And my biggest worry was what was going to unfold on the next episode of Saved By the Bell. In other words, life was good.

I hope that eighteen years from now my nephews can look back on their time as favorably. Some things about being eleven will always be the same. But in this world of increasing exposures and dwindling boundaries, this time of innocence seems shorter and shorter. I hope for my nephews that, just for a little longer, Santa remains real, board games are still fun, and Auntie is the coolest person they know. And for God's sake....let them still think that GIRLS HAVE COOTIES. And while I would love to rewind my own life every now and then, I understand that time marches on. One day my nephews will be my age, with children and nieces and nephews of their own. And they will understand this feeling of, not necessarily wanting to stop time, but somehow find a way to slow it down a little. Life goes by too fast people. Make sure you are enjoying all the right moments.