I Am The Coolest Aunt Ever

Great things have come out of my parents getting grandchildren through my oldest brother. First off, my typical Jewish mother no longer asks when I’m planning to pop out kids. My large Jewish family has stopped asking when I’m going to get married at every family event. I have an adorable niece and nephew whom I play with and lavish with love and bubbles. I get to be “cool Aunt Jyssica.”

My 4-year-old niece loves to see me and knows I’ll roll around on the floor to play with her. I bring her bubbles, which are cheap and apparently the coolest thing since dinosaurs, and she knows I have a ladybug earring that I wear in my right ear. She loves this ladybug. Every time I visit, she climbs up me like I’m a wobbly talking tree and yells “CAN I SEE YOUR LADYBUG?!” (directly INTO my ear) and then yanks my ear to her and says hello to him. Also, she named the ladybug George.  Which didn’t make any sense to me, either, until I realized she names everything George, after the curious monkey.

Side note, I almost traumatized my niece beyond all recognition at my sisters baby shower for her second kid, when I bought a Curious George pinata. We made sure the kid was safely inside when the adults were hitting George with a wooden baseball bat (It was a big hit. Pinatas should be at every baby shower. 8 month pregnant women, blindfolded with a bat, hitting a tree, are hilarious.).

My nephew is only 1 and a half, and he’s one handsome rugrat (despite my brother’s ugly mug, haha) and has the sweetest laugh and smile. He is also a climber. I never realized how impressive chairs are. He will walk up to a chair—any chair at all—and climb onto it. Once there, he’ll grin and look so incredibly proud of himself. Then he climbs down and wanders over to the next chair. He has welcomed himself to the world of walking and climbing with many tumbles, stumbles, trips, and falls. And bruises. Well, that’s all of us…

We are not a coordinated family. Trust me. Within 4 months of moving to NYC, I fell in a crosswalk and ended up needing a wristguard and a sling. My mom once sprained BOTH ankles so badly that the doctor actually said it would have been better if she’d broken them.  My brother, who the father of these 2 adorable children and both my biggest protector, as well as one of the most annoying people in the whole world, once skateboarded his way to a broken arm so severe that he needed surgery, a cast from shoulder to fingertips, and it STILL looks weird in comparison to his other arm.

Me, I’ve broken many bones. Some more than once. And I don’t always remember how each of them happened.  

The best thing ever is that no one in the family is as concerned about my love life, or lack of one, since there are kids to focus on! These 2 kids, the beginning of the newest generation of Scotts, are already carrying on our awkward tradition of being accident-prone. It’s not a good or braggable tradition, but a tradition nonetheless. Some families have names or jobs they pass on, some have weird habits or traits. We have a distinct lack of coordination.

My nephew jumped out of his high chair recently. He stood up and launched himself off of a high chair onto tile floors. This action resulted immediately in almost giving my brother his first heart attack, added to the gray already in his hair, and a trip to the hospital to make sure nothing in the kid's head was shaken loose. Luckily, along with little to no coordination, the Scotts also pass along a hard head from generation to generation. The boy is perfectly fine.

My sister-in-law is actually completely awesome. I'm not sure how, but she is the biggest dork I know and fits perfectly in my dorky family, even though she is a Catholic mexican. She's hilarious, though. My mom thinks she's a sweet angel (who delivered grandkids to her), but the rest of us know she is just as mischievious and silly and dorky as the rest of us, and has consequently passed that onto my niece and nephew!

I’m pretty sure if I were to hatch a kid, my family would visit me more. This is just an unrelated thought. Not that that is happening any time soon. I don’t even have a dog right now. And everyone knows that dogs are like starter kids! But being an aunt is good training, too, and one of the coolest, most satisfying roles I’ve ever had.

SuperQuitter?

I am a quitter.

I quit smoking a mere 5 days ago. And I am awesome. AND apparently have the willpower of a VERY WILLPOWERY person!

I always thought my willpower was hidden away somewhere with my as-yet-unfound impulse control and my never-to-be-found patience. People say patience is a virtue, but I have to tell you, it is a virtue I have never possessed. ADHD much? Mayyyyybe...ooh! Shiny! Skip, jump, bounce. *waddle like penguin and make penguin sounds.* What? I'm not ADHD.

Here’s the thing though: I do feel proud of myself, to a certain extent. I mean, I was a smoker for close to 10 years, and in all that time have made maybe 2 efforts to quit, both of which ended before 24 hours had passed. But at the same time, it hasn’t been hard. I expected to be fighting cravings like a superhero and using willpower to scale difficult times of shivering, foaming-at-the-mouth withdrawal symptoms.

How wrong I was. For whatever reason, I woke up one morning, said “I am DONE.” And proceeded to take the last few cigarettes out of my purse to give the boyfriend, and bouncingly went about my day.

Where is the STRUGGLE? Where are the HARDSHIPS?

Dammit. How am I ever going to become a superhero, if I have no obstacles and struggles to overcome? What the heck?! No one ever becomes a superhero because they were supremely average and just went about their day—even of it includes SKIPPING!!

On the other hand, I suppose I have options. I could go be exposed to a ton of radiation, get toxic waste spilled on me (a la Alex Mack…oh yeah, baby…90s reference!), maybe get bitten by some sort of bionic insect. Any suggestions? Help a poor, well-adjusted kid become superhero-worthy?

This isn’t even fodder for a good children’s book! “Jyssica woke up one morning perfectly fine, and had a good day.” No one wants to read that!

I need excitement! I need villains. I need something! If I am ever going to become a superhero and have powers, and become the stuff that myths, children’s tales, and newspaper stories are made of, SOMEthing is going to have to change around here!

Waking Up Supermad

Do you ever have one of those days when you just wake up, and right from the moment you get out of bed, you’re spoiling for a good fight?

You get up, and for no reason, you are just PISSED. You don’t remember your dreams from the night before, you just KNOW that something went down in them. Someone killed your hamster, your boyfriend cheated on you with a Japanese transvestite stripper-by-night/bus-driver-by-day, your parents moved and changed their number and didn’t tell you, which finally led to your understanding you are the least favorite and leading to years of expensive therapy that you couldn't afford, SOMETHING happened.

And even if you don’t know exactly what it is, you know you’re mad about it. And you are just going to keep that mad going. On those days, I’m not doing anything so tame as “waking up.” No, I am GETTING THE HELL OUT OF SLEEP! And I see my alarm clock, and it’s buzzing, and that annoying little beeping isn’t just gently awakening me from a deep sleep, it is jackhammering my face screaming “WAKE UP, SUCKA! You gotta go to WORK! HAAAAHA!” My alarm clock is taunting me, and I cannot handle that level of childish mockery at 7:00 in the morning.

Have I ever mentioned that I am not a morning person? I don’t like for anyone to talk to me for that first maybe 30 minutes of being awake. I just shower, and go about my morning, and by the time I get on the train, I am awake and ready to greet people civilly. Usually, anyway.

Things that normally wouldn’t bother me, or that I might not notice, suddenly become a HUGE DEAL. Stub my toe? I curse like a sailor. Loudly. Shower isn’t getting hot fast enough to please me? Curse at it, in multiple languages, and maybe throw in a hand gesture or 2, all while cranking it to the “Fire of a Thousand Suns” setting. And THEN (you know you saw this coming) being supremely annoyed when it’s so hot that the shower curtain starts to melt into a sad plastic-y puddle.

But ok, let’s say you make through your morning routine and out the door, all without killing yourself with a business card, just to make a point. You don’t know what that point might be at the moment, but you’re pretty sure it has a “deeper meaning” and substance, and that only poor misunderstood, pissed-off you would “get it.”

Not catching the light to cross the street, a pedestrian asking me for ANYTHING, the train not magically arriving as my feet step onto the platform, anything is fuel for my mood.

My sister-in-law was once mad for an entire day, and smacked my brother upon waking up, because she had a dream in which he cheated on her. 99% of the time I think that’s insane. That one day I wake up ready to kick a squirrel, I figure he probably had it coming.

Then, suddenly, I'm fine. I don’t know what made me want to suddenly stop mentally burning everyone’s hair, but I’m suddenly completely okay again. My mood is uplifted, my optimism is back in place, and I’m happy again. And off I go, tra-la-la-ing, as if nothing happened.

On this, the Anniversary of Your Birth

I recently turned 25. I like to joke that it’s time to have a quarter-life crisis. You know, trade that sports car in for a minivan, and start dating older men. I find it hilarious that people freak out over turning 25 or 30. With the average life expectancy in the US rising, being 30 is practically still a baby!

I have my whole life ahead of me. I’ve only been out of college for 4 and a half years. Hell, I still refer to things with “half” added to them. I noticed when I was 24-and-a-half. I’ll notice again this December when I am 25-and-a-half. I love these milestones. Birthdays, holidays, other people’s birthdays. I get as excited, of not more so, about other people’s birthdays as I do my own!

It’s because I love buying gifts for people. Two of my best friends in the whole world, Mike and Chris, turn 25 today. Because I live in NY and they live in FL, this is the first year I am not able to be around. I am, however, still able to buy them gifts!

My friends know not to expect something practical from me. Practical is from my mother, your mother, their mother, maybe their well-meaning-but-not-quite-getting-it significant others. I don't give practical to my best friends. The ONLY exception to this is when it is something they actually need and specifically ask for. Otherwise, I’m hitting the toy aisle.

They do it too! Among recent years, I have received: a slip n’ slide (yes, we played with it), a bubble wand, a huge thing of water balloons (with convenient filler nozzles), and more.

This year, I hit up Toys R Us online! So not only do they get cool gifts, which are NOT socks, but they also get to receive a package in the mail. And everyone loves getting presents in the mail. It’s one of those things, like fireworks and Halloween, that take us back to a time of youth and excitement. What could it be? Shake it a little, look at the address label. And finally, rip it open in excitement and glee. And for those few minutes, we don’t care where the packaging went, or that we have to clean it up later, we don’t rip the paper off carefully, and we use our hands, nails, and teeth, before finally resorting to going off and finding scissors for that ONE inevitable stubborn piece of tape we have to cut through.

They are going to love it! I can’t spill yet, as they read this blog and haven’t received it yet. BUT, I can tell you it’s fun, silly, something their parents wouldn’t get them, and completely impractical for an adult.

Bet you $10 that they are even more psyched to receive it since reading this!

Happy 25^th birthday, Mike and Chris Kilborn. AKA 2 of my best friends in the whole world.

PS Emily (AKA other bffeeee), I love you dearly and wish I could have made a supercool blog post about you on YOUR birthday, but I didn’t have a blog at that time. Please accept my undying love and affection, and laughing while kicking your husband out of bed so that you and I can indulge in girl talk without him, as a substitute until next year. :)

Dear Bruno Mars

Dear Bruno Mars,

I really like your song, ‘Grenade.’ It’s super catchy and I find myself humming it or singing along to it all the time. However, I have a couple of questions for you.

Instead of volunteering to catch live grenades for this woman, which admittedly is both a little sweet and kind of creepy, perhaps instead you should be analyzing WHY people are hurling grenades and blades at this woman. Does she deserve it? Is she simply getting her comeuppance? If that's the case, you are standing in the way of rogue justice.

Also a mindbender: How would jumping in front of a train in any way protect or save this woman? I guess I can see where your point though, by jumping in front of the train, YOU no longer have to deal with her. But she would still be out in the world, creating havoc and suddenly with no one to catch grenades being thrown at her face. But in what way would jumping in front of a moving train and getting mowed over protect her? Doesn’t she have eyes? Why in world was she on train tracks to begin with? There are signs posted and everyone knows it’s dangerous! If it’s for the squished and flattened pennies…you’re doing it wrong.

Lastly, I have a more perplexing question. How are you so in love with this woman? You said yourself, she's mad, bad and friends with the devil. She had her eyes open during your first kiss! (Side note: how did you know her eyes were open during the kiss unless yours were, too? Both people, eyes open, first kiss—awwwwwkward!) You couldn’t have dated her that long, if you knew she wasn’t that into you. How did you fall so hard?

To be fair, it’s a really fun song to sing along with, and I annoy the boyfriend with it now and then, too, so that’s definitely a plus.  

Please respond with a 5 paragraph essay using the correct TREE method and MLA format.

Have a great day!

Jyss

I Am So Uncoordinated

I love baseball. And football, but baseball is my main love. Some people think it's boring, my mother included. My poor mom! Not being much of a sports fan, she was forced to sit through all of my little league softball games, and later high school swim meets, as well as my brother's high school football games, in which he was on the marching band drumline.

I really love sports. It is unfortunate, really, that I am so incredibly uncoordinated that me actually playing sports is hilarious. I don't mean it to be. I really try. But I am one of those people who trips over their own feet when walking in a semi-straight line. Completely sober. On flat ground.

Last year, around November, I dislocated my elbow and sprained my wrist after crashing to the ground in a crosswalk. I had to wear a wristguard and sling! When I looked, there wasn't even anything in the road I could have tripped over!

Now, I am a spectator.

But sometimes, you are in the right place at the right time to be a spectator. On Saturday, July 9th, I was in the stands to witness baseball history. Derek Jeter, #2 on the Yankees, and has been a Yankee his entire almost 20-year career, hit his 3000th career hit! And it could not have been more exciting if he had planned it.

2 outs, a full count. There's the pitch! Oh, and it's a foul ball! Another pitch, another FOUL! Everyone is chanting Jeter's name and have cameras ready. A last pitch, and CRACK! A homer out over left field! The crowd went nuts, the jumbotron replayed it a zillion times, and the whole Yankees team was waiting at home plate to hug and butt-slap Jeter when he got there. He waved to the crowd, and a bunch of (apparently) pre-taped interviews with players, coaches, baseball greats, and commentators played on the jumbotron the rest of the game, talking about how great it was for Jeter and how proud they were, and how much of an honor it is to work with him. It was really cool.

He is the 28th ball player in history to hit 3000. The highest of all-time was Pete Rose with an amazing total of 4,256!! Jeter is only the 2nd player to hit his 3000th on a home run.

Seriously, it was amazing to see. I am keeping my ticket stub!

While cheering this awesome moment, I swing my arm back and cut my finger on the edge of my seat. Yep, story of my life. :)

I Have The Most Random Thoughts

Seriously, I have some of the most random ideas and thoughts. I have no idea where they came from. I know I think they’re funny, and I know that my friends who have known me forever actually have come to expect that sort of stuff from me. Or maybe it’s simply that I have always said whatever popped into my head (I don’t really have a filter…I say what I’m thinking) and they are all used to it. My best friend Emily thinks it’s hilarious. We’ll just be sitting around, enjoying some Florida sunshine, and I’ll look at her out of the blue and say something like “You know what would be fun? Wheelchair races with no brakes. And the referees could be in Radio Flyer wagons.”

And she doesn’t even blink. She and our other 2 best friends, Mike and Chris, will actually take a second and think about it, and respond like it’s perfectly normal. Which, for them, it actually is. Honestly, they are great people to tell my weird ideas to, because they will come up with helpful suggestions and questions. I can actually see Mike in my head right now asking, very seriously, “How would the refs push themselves in the wagons?” Or Chris with a logical reaction of “Would we be pushing ourselves or being pushed?” 

The boyfriend is the same. The randomness doesn’t faze him at all. He seems to get a kick out of it, and I love his rational responses to my random thoughts. “Hey, we should go skip somewhere.” “Hmm, Jyss…not really in a skipping mood right now, but maybe later...or you can skip, and I’ll watch.”

Welcome to my world.

And the randomness never ends! Sometimes it goes away for a time, like hibernation in my mind, and sometimes it bubbles out. Perfect example! Here are my last 2 Facebook status updates, one posted yesterday afternoon and the other this morning. No joke, these are the kinds of things I think about.

Posted on 6/23/2011 at 1:30 pm:

“It's weird to think that someday there will be a whole generation of 80 year old who know all the words to the Fresh Prince rap theme. When im in my 80s, im going to organize a large choir full of other old people and we're going to sing acapella versions of 90s tv show theme songs. WHO’S IN??”

Posted on 6/24/2011 at around 9 am:

“You can tell what she was REALLY saying was "(Are you KIDDING ME?) It's wingardium levi-OH-sa, not levi-oh-SAAAAA. (You redhaired soulless moron. How did you even dress yourself this morning? Geez!) Swish and FLICK."

Inexplicably, I literally could not stop thinking about this last night as I was falling asleep. You're welcome, world.”

Of course, that last one references Harry Potter. Another weird thought I am having right now also involves Harry Potter. Specifically, Hermione. I literally just thought to myself: “Even though I don’t believe in Jesus, the water-into-wine trick is pretty sweet. I wish I could do water-into-champagne. I wonder if Jesus could choose. Hmm…I bet wizards could do it. Even if HP didn’t know how, I betcha Hermione could figure it out. She’s a smart one, always reading. Man, I love to read.”

I am not making that up, that is exactly how I thought of it. I tend to write the same way I’d think or speak something.

Oh yeah, and like 10 friends all commented on my old-people-acapella-choir idea. The comments ranged from “I AM SO IN!” to “Only you would think of this…”

I love my friends. I am a lucky duck.