Metamorphosis

"You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”-- Dr. Seuss ( I realize this quote looks completely out of place here. But, I have my reasons. Be patient.)

I loved picking up caterpillars as a kid. Their little sticky feet would climb along my hand and I would pet their furry backs. I have no idea what kind of butterfly those caterpillars were destined to become. I just remember the furry black and orange sticky footed furry things that seemed like magical creatures. They were definitely way cooler than the slugs that heavily populated our yard and everyone else’s. When I moved to Utah, I loved the snails, mainly because they put an interesting cover over the slimy slugginess I was accustomed to. Now that I am an adult, I hate the snails nearly as much as the slugs, not for their appearance, but for what their appearance means. It means holes in leaves, chewed up roses, and for every one snail you see, you are guaranteed to have a large extended snail family hiding somewhere close by, chomping its way slowly through your entire yard. But, as usual, I digress.

Caterpillars. I rarely see them anymore though I know they’re around. I guess I’m too busy rushing around doing “Grown-Up” things, rather than taking a moment to enjoy the wonders of the Spring, like I should at least once during the season that I love so much. I never fail to see at least a few cocoons in the trees and bushes that surround my house every year. I actually enjoy seeing the cocoons more than the caterpillars now, mainly because I know those babies are growing and changing, rather than eating every green thing in sight. I have never actually seen a butterfly emerge from a cocoon with my own eyes, but I know they do because I see the butterflies fly around in the summer.

Butterflies definitely catch my attention, like they have since I was a little girl. I have never failed to see the fragile beauty in a butterfly. They seem to float, more than actually fly, kind of like fairies in disguise. Butterflies are probably one of the only creatures that I still love as much as I did as a child. I doodled butterflies on the margins of my paper in various colors of the rainbow from first grade through college while “listening” to my various teachers through those years. I loved the symmetry of the patterns that matched on each of the wings, like ink blot pictures. As an adult, or rather a semi-adult such as I am, I can better appreciate the effort it takes for a butterfly to actually Become ITSELF. It’s kind of like the ugly duckling that starts off cute enough, though certainly not as cute as a little yellow duckling, if you’re making that comparison.

And about that-- I think that calling any baby swan “UGLY” is pretty harsh. I have never seen a baby ANYTHING that I have not found to be completely adorable. Let’s take a baby orangutan. Or really, any baby monkey. Come on! Who doesn’t love a baby monkey? They are the cutest things short of actual human babies (who are always beautiful and instantly loveable to me.) Have you ever seen a squealing piglet? They are all pink and tiny and “Charlotte’s Web”/”Babe”-ish. Who wouldn’t love a little pink piglet? Now, in the case of the piglet, the final product, an enormous pig, does not quite match up with the adorability of the initial specimen. Just ask my brothers Andy and Jon about a certain pig named “LEROY”. I’m not sure who else was with us when we saw “LEROY”, but I guarantee you, it’s a vision that will never leave my memory, even if I try to permanently burn it out with electroshock therapy. (Which, if it were available to me for this purpose, I might actually try it out. Yes, it was THAT HORRIFYING.)

Oh, I neglected to mention fluffy yellow chicks, lambs, bear cubs, puppies, kittens, fawns (ala Bambi), bunnies, and all other creatures in their newborn form. Okay, so babies, they are adorable. We are all clear on the super cuteness of babies. Nothing can match a baby ANYTHING if we are gauging the Cuteness Factor. It’s an established fact which has existed since the beginning of time. I heard someone say that they thought that God had made babies appear so cute so that the adults required to care for its every need would be willing to patiently do so. Who can resist a baby? Find me one person alive who can resist a baby and I will check to see if that “person” is not actually an android of some kind, or possibly a potential psychopath. Because people love babies. They just do. Now, I may actually just be speaking for the female types of humans, but I’m going to take a leap here and add men into this mix.

I have three children. I had all three of them within a space of five years. Five crazy, exhausting years of growing, birthing, feeding, diapering, and rocking babies. Then, all of the years since spent rocking babies to sleep (I miss this. I must find a larger rocking chair!), finding pacifiers underneath couch cushions in pure desperation, potty training my little ones (some faster than others), reading bedtime stories, afternoon nap stories, sit on Mommy’s lap stories, and all other numerous and plentiful story times. (I never want to give up story times. It’s one of my all time favorite Mommy duties.)

Now, I am in the process of watching each of my children grow, change, develop, mature, and BECOME who they are meant to BECOME. As a Mommy/Moooooooooooommm!, this is a wonderful thing to observe, but also a melancholy type of experience, as you remember these very tall, strong, beautiful adolescents as infants, seemingly just yesterday. I don’t care how old you get, in your Mother’s eyes; you will always be her baby. My Mom used to tell me so, and for a number of years, I found that to be pretty annoying. But, in my Mom’s defense, I also found pretty much everything to be annoying during that same time period.

She couldn’t win with me during those years, no matter how hard she tried. It was that chronically-annoyed part of my life, the same type of thing that I am now going through with my kids. Christopher may never grow out of the “purely annoyed for annoyance sake” phase. He revels in it and I believe he has mastered it up to this point in his life. He could write a book called “HOW TO BE ANNOYED AND STILL GET YOUR FAMILY TO DO WHATEVER YOU WANT THEM TO (with a special bonus chapter on Tantruming Techniques—What You Haven’t Tried Yet, But I Have—Money Back Guarantee if My Methods Don’t Work For YOU!)

It’s amazing to me to see these little infants, toddlers, young kids, and now adolescents continue to grow and change and become a little more of the adults they are yet to be with each passing day. Baby step upon baby step.

I must admit, I thought when they were little and needing their Mommy so much and couldn’t get in enough cuddle time and “rock-a-bye’s” that I would be very sad as I watched them grow up. I thought when they had outgrown that very dependent I Want My Mommy phase that I would be disappointed. But, just the opposite is true. Of course, I miss rocking them in the rocking chair. I miss the nights when my daughter was scared of monsters and I concocted a special “Monster Proof Spray” (water and some peppermint extract in a spray bottle) which I would spray all around her room, in her closet, under her bed, on her pillow, and she would feel safe and protected by any monsters that might have been lurking before. I loved the Good Old Days when a kiss and a rock-a-bye could make ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING ALL BETTER. What power that was. Kind of a heady experience for a mother, actually, to be able to simply show a few minutes of love and attention and all would be well with the world again. I don’t know that we ever grow out of that need. I know when I get a few minutes of love and attention that my worries and struggles are easier to bear, if not gone completely. It’s really so simple to help each other feel more peaceful. A hug here, a kiss there, a compliment, or just an “I Know You Can Do It” moment. What a difference that makes in our lives, and how simple it is to truly encourage someone with such simple and subtle things that can take less than five minutes, or even five seconds sometimes. We all have five minutes to give, especially when it will lift a weary soul or cheer a friend going through bad stuff.

When I was growing up, I had these terrific four brothers around to play with, or be taunted mercilessly by, depending on how you look at it. They are all distinctly different, but I share certain similarities with each one of them, which allows me to talk to each of them for different reasons, advice or just to laugh about something we would both think is funny. Today, I’ll share just one of the relationships I have with the four. My older brother Dave has always been my personal Super Star. He’s the oldest, and I’m second in line, and we are only two years apart. He loved to tease at home, but at school or church or anywhere else, he was watching and guarding me like a hawk. I doubt that my parents asked him to do this. He just came by it naturally. “No one is going to mess with my little sister and get away with it!” He definitely always had my back, and I know he still does.

Of course, having this wonderful big brother had its downside too. I became permanently branded as “DAVE’S LITTLE SISTER”. I no longer even needed to use my given name, as “DAVE’S LITTLE SISTER” was who I became from kindergarten on. Sure, I tried to wiggle my way out of that. I even tried to convince people that it was actually the other way around. I'd say, "No! Actually, he's “LAURIE’S BIG BROTHER!” But, unfortunately, I could never make that stick. So, “DAVE’S LITTLE SISTER” it was.

I had the opportunity to spend this past weekend with my older brother. He is 42, going on 22, and is finally wonderfully in love and engaged to an amazing girl named Diane. We love Diane, at first simply because she loved Dave so much, but now that we know her better, we just LOVE Diane. Ask anyone in my family. What do you think of Diane? Oh man! I love Diane! She is so great! Her family is Armenian, which is a very interesting culture to my family that is the quiet sort if we ever actually go out in public. Now, on our own turf, all bets are off. But, attending functions or what have you, we actually keep to ourselves pretty much. It's funny to me to think of us as being kind of shy in this way, but I have to admit, we actually are.

So, last weekend, my sweet older brother and his extra sweet fiance' flew me down to Burbank, CA with my Mom to attend their engagement party. All of Diane's family was there, as the majority of them live in southern California as well. Wow! What a party! It was friendly and loud and very very loving. Diane comes from great stock. And my brother Dave, who usually kind of joins in on the Family Shyness, kept up with all of them. He was working the room, kissing both cheeks, introducing my Mom and I to everyone, and there were a lot of people there to introduce. I was watching this grown man, who happens to be my brother, acting completely adult-like and excited to be accepted into this new family he will be a part of. To me, this was the ultimate in Metamorphosis. We have tried to tell Diane how much Dave has changed since he met her.

He, for nearly a decade, was what I nicknamed THE ONE DATE BANDIT. Yes, Dave took lots and lots of girls on first dates. He took a few on second dates. But, Diane may be the only girl in his life that actually got that third date, as she immediately won his heart. She and Dave are yin and yang, they seem to compliment one another so well, that it's like they each found the missing puzzle piece of themselves. They are, to me, what it must be to find YOUR OTHER HALF. Truly. It's amazing and moving and incredible. Now, don't misunderstand. Dave is still a huge tease. He loves to drive her nuts with his silliness. Which is good for me to see, because my Mom and I were getting kind of worried that some other creature had inhabited his body or something, watching all of this patience and kindness oozing from him. That is not the Dave we used to know.

Dave has never been a bad guy, quite the opposite actually. That is absolutely true. He was always that funny, wonderful guy that everyone wanted to set up with their daughter, sister, neighbor, niece, or any other single girl they knew. Definitely a "take home to Mama" kind of guy. But, Dave was also single for a long time-- he could come and go as he wished, spend his money on anything he wanted, work as late as he needed to with no one having to hold dinner for him. He could invest his money or spend it, he could work in corporate America (which he did for a number of years) or start his own business. The world was Dave's Oyster. Now that I am single, I can see some of the great benefits of being able to call all of your own shots without having to clear your choices with anyone, or argue out what you actually want to do. There's many times a day when I love to be single, and I know Dave had that feeling for many years as well. But, there is that one tiny trade-off...

To be single, calling your own shots, having the world be Your Oyster, spending your money as you wish, and all the other goodies of single-dom also brings that moment every evening when you return to your empty, silent home-- looking just like you left it in the morning. There's no kids screaming "Daddy! I missed you!" or your tired wife smiling her loving smile, coming up to hug you and just get a moment in your arms. There's none of those times when your wife is doing the dinner dishes and you come up behind her and pull her into an embrace, which leads to an impromptu slow dance with you singing off tune in her ear. There aren't the times when you make your wife just sit down and rest for a minute so you start to rub her feet. There aren't the back rubs that she knows just how to give to help ease the stresses of the day away for awhile. And, most of all, there is no one to just shower with your love that you have been feeling for her all day long. To not have THAT WOMAN, that one true companion for you, coming in with you at the end of the day, or waiting at home for you, is a very big price to pay for all of that single-ness instead. All of that free singlehood seems very slight and unfulfilling when you find that one person on this earth that understands you and loves you just as you are at this moment.

My younger brothers are all married now. I was as well up until a year and a half ago. Dave was the oldest, our protector and family watchdog, standing alone in all of the family pictures. We were all there with our spouses and kids looking frustrating trying to gather everyone for a quick photo op, and there was Dave. All alone. He was the favorite uncle of every kid that came anywhere near him. There's not a kid on this planet who wouldn't love to have Uncle Dave, believe me. And I pity the kids in this world that don't have an uncle like that. He has been my teenage daughter's best friend for most of her life. I remember her asking me when she was about 14 years old, "Mom? Is it weird that my Best Friend is a 40 year old man?" Of course, out of context, that could be an incredibly troubling statement. But, I knew it was her Uncle Dave-- he has always made time for a date just for the two of them, even if he is only in town for 48 hours, sometimes less. They always hit the Harley Davidson store, to get her some new Harley item to be running around town in. Never a motorcycle of course, because I would kill him-- but always a t-shirt or some other very cool thing that she will surely wear out, partly because it's COOL, but mainly because she got it with her Uncle Dave.

The changes that have come to be in this Boy-Man that has been my big brother all of my life are amazing, wonderful, unexpected, but most of all just a complete metamorphosis. More than any caterpillar turning into a butterfly. More like a big brother that used to give noogies to all the younger brothers, becoming a gentleman, a sweet, patient, caring man, and soon to be step-father to four incredible kids. I helped he and Diane get ready for their party last weekend, but mostly I just observed them together and with their great kids. There are two teenagers, a prepubescent son and a four year old little girl in this mix, and he has them all wrapped around his finger. It's the Power of the Dave I imagine. The Power of the Dave. Yes, that's what it is-- we all fell helpless to the Power ourselves as kids, and we still do.

I feel like the Grinch who Stole Christmas-- not because I am particularly grouchy, but because at the end of the story his heart grows to be "Six times Too Big". That's what watching these changes in my brother makes me feel. Just when I thought I couldn't love my sweet brother more, I watch him love this wonderful woman, these wonderful kids, and the joy it is bringing into his life, even with the tiring, stressful moments that come, especially when planning parties for family, or weddings, or receptions. I personally always thought that was the biggest drag of getting married, all of that horrible party planning. The stress is enough to kill even the best of love stories. But, they took it all in stride, stress and all, and gave each other encouragement, support, and kindness. Even at the worst moments in this preparation HELL they were patient with each other and whenever they looked at each other, probably never knowing that I was watching them, their love for each other was written all over their faces. Truly a beautiful and blessed sight for a little sister.

I imagine that I will always be "Dave's Little Sister", no matter where my life may take me. It won't matter if I'm 40 or 60 or 100. He will still be the Big Brother, as he has reminded me many times over the years. I'm never going to pass him up in age or status. He has also reminded me of that over the years. When before this was an incredible irritant, now it is an honor to me.

I am honored to be the Little Sister of this Great Man who has finally found the love of his life, the center of his world, the other half of his heart. Happy Day. Blessed Day. Welcome to our family, Diane. Thank you for bringing yourself to my lonely brother, who has been searching for you all of his life. We love you both.

Again, I quote the Master of the Language, Dr. Seuss, because he says it all in a sentence that just took me an hour to write:

“You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”