Say Uncle…

This past weekend, we babysat our 15-month old niece Nora at our house while her parents went to Block Island for the weekend.  We had offered to babysit for their anniversary, and this was the appointed weekend. 

The kids were quite excited to have their cousin over for the weekend.  They made signs for her arrival.  The first said, “Welcome, Nora, to our home – our home is your home,” and the second, dictated by Charlotte, said, “You’ll be back soon…. FOR MY PARTY!”  (Charlotte’s really looking forward to her birthday party at the end of June.)

They also wore their “I’m the big cousin” shirts.  We got them to wear to the hospital when Nora was born, several sizes too large so they’d last.  (Luke’s on the verge of growing out of his.)

Charlotte had been looking forward to Nora’s visit for weeks.  She’d been telling her friends at school that she wouldn’t be able to call out for her mom and dad when she woke up in the morning because her cousin would be sleeping in her room.  We were very concerned that she’d wake up Nora in the morning, who’s a late sleeper. (Charlotte usually wakes up at about 6:30am.)   

Oddly enough, there wasn’t a peep from her room until after 8am.  We heard them ‘talking’ softly shortly after 8am, and when we got upstairs Nora was standing happily in the pack and play.  When we asked Charlotte who woke up first, she responded, “Nora woke up first, and I woke up first.”  We’re still not sure what happened.  We’re thinking Charlotte woke up and quietly waited for her cousin to do so as well.

Luke shares Charlotte’s enthusiasm for their cousin.  He likes to get right in her face to say, “Hello, Nora”  Thankfully, we were able to convince him to kiss her on the top of her head rather than getting right in her face constantly.  Also, for some strange reason, he likes to try to sit in her lap and he tries to play ‘horsie’ on her when she crawls (despite the fact that he’s considerablu bigger).  He also wanted to join her in her pack and play when we put her to bed and down for her nap. 

Nora seemed to enjoy her stay, and all went relatively smoothly, the notable exceptions being that she skipped her nap on Saturday afternoon, and Luke had a 104 degree temperature on Sunday, which increased the fussiness factor exponentially and made for a challenging afternoon.

And I had forgotten how difficult it is to communicate with a 15-month old.  Nora does know a few signs and uses the “more” sign quite frequently, which helped.  She particularly enjoyed it when I did a silly dance (“more, more, more”), and when we played “oogie boogie peek-a-boo”(“more, more, more”).  Charlotte also interpreted on several occasions.  When Nora threw some food on the floor while having a snack in the highchair, and I suggested that we not throw food on the floor, Charlotte, who was in the bathroom at the time, yelled from her perch, “Dad! That means she’s done!”

Charlotte has also reached a basic understanding that, while she calls Karen and me “Mom” and “Dad,” other people call us different things.  At one point, when Karen was getting ready to read a book, Charlotte asked Nora, “Do you want Karen Putney to read you a story?”

Which brings me to one of my pet peeves…

I take the role and the title of “Uncle” very seriously.  (I have three nieces and one nephew, all of whom I love dearly and to whom I feel a deep sense of responsibility as their uncle.)  It drives me crazy when people bestow the title of ‘Uncle’ (or ‘Aunt/Aunty’) on any Tom, Dick, or Harry (or Mary, Jane, or Sue) regardless of the actual relationship.  ‘Uncle’ has a specific definition and it comes with significant responsibility.  It’s not a title that should be tossed around lightly.  There should be some type of special induction ceremony and specific qualifications (like being an actual uncle).

When Charlotte was born, one of our college friends asked if he could be “Uncle Neil.”  We respectfully declined.  After all, and to repeat (I feel very strongly about this), it’s not a title that should be tossed around lightly. 

I’m happy to report that since then, our friend Neil has become a true ‘Uncle.’  Although I do believe he has yet to survive, or experience, a weekend caring for his nephew, a true test of uncle-osity. 

Maybe there should be degrees of ‘Uncle-osity’, with qualifications and milestones to determine the degree of ‘Uncle-osity’ that an uncle has achieved.  An uncle could earn a black belt of Uncle-osity, be knighted as a Sir Uncle, be nominated for an Uncle Oscar or an Uncle Tony, or be considered for the Red Badge of Uncle Courage…  I could go on, but I think you get the point. 

I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese.’