My sister is having a baby.

I have a big sister. She's less than a year older than me - that's right, we're "Irish twins." Growing up we fought a lot. I was always the annoying little sister and she was always the annoyed big sister.

As we've gotten older we've grown to appreciate each other. I've recently learned that what I always read as emotional incompetency was actually her ability and strength to show restraint under duress. She recently came clean to me that what she always interpreted as my flightiness she now identifies as fearlessness and decisiveness.

Not only do I love her a lot but I actually really like her. She's been with this really awesome guy for a couple of years and I really like him, too. This is great news because they're going to have a baby girl soon and odds are that since I really like both of them, I'm really going to like her.

It's going to be a cute baby, right?

According to morphthing.com, this is what my niece will look like.

I woke up last night in a panic - what if I'm not a good aunt?! Granted this is technically not my first rodeo - I have 3 half-brothers who all have children and I have 2 child-aged cousins. My brothers have always been cool older brothers to me and my sister. They're about 20 years our senior so we didn't grow up with them but they made it a point to show us some love - Danny used to always take us to ride dirt bikes and ATV's in the muddy mountains after the monsoons; Tommy dealt with us for an entire parent-free weekend full of pizza partying and amusement parks; and Ronny well, Ronny would buy me beer when I got a little older. Like I said, my brothers are cool but the bond I have with my sister is a result of us growing up together, of her kicking me in the face with her soccer cleats on when I was 5, of me pushing her through a window resulting in 100+ stitches on her face when I was 11, of her asking me to go to the mall with her just so she could ditch me and hang out with the (bad) friend she wasn't allowed to hang out with when I was 13. Our bond has been built on all the fucked up shit we did to each other when we were kids and there isn't a bond stronger.

Here's my family - my mom, all my siblings, their significant others and their children.
Guy in the middle with the mustache is Danny, next to him in glasses is Tommy,
all the way on the right looking like a wannabe Jax Teller (it was Halloween) is Ronny. 

That said, this is different than my brothers' kids and my cousins, this is my sister. My sister is having a baby...seriously, what if I'm not a good aunt? Waking up in a panic at 3:00am with this thought running wild through my post-REM brain, I was about to reach for my computer and Google "how do I be a good aunt?" but then realized, I don't need Google for this one, I have first hand knowledge of what a good aunt does because I have one.

Me and my aunt.

My mom is the oldest of 5 children with 3 younger brothers and 1 younger sister. Growing up I never lived in the same city as my aunt and uncles so seeing them was always a special treat. We'd go visit, they'd take time off work and we'd spend our holiday sightseeing the skyscrapers, window shopping on 5th Ave, going out to Broadway shows, fancy dinners and having pizza/movie nights. I watched my first rated R movie with my aunt. She taught me how to wax my own legs. When my sister and I were 13 and 14 we even went to my aunt's bachelorette party to a dinner club in Manhattan - pre-teens at a bachelorette party IN MANHATTAN. There were no other kids there - just my aunt's friends all drinking a cocktail out of a scorpion bowl (while we sipped on virgin coladas) in a hip jazz bar in Hell's Kitchen.
To put this into perspective - I've had my 9 year old cousin's friend request pending for over a year now because I don't have the heart to reject it but I refuse to accept it because I don't want to have to adjust the "adult" language/nature/content of my Facebook posts.
So here it is - #1 reason I loved hanging out with my aunt was because she never treated me like a child. I always felt like an adult. As far back as I can remember, she always talked to me like a grown up - never dumbing down her vocabulary or raising the pitch of her voice the way most adults do when they speak to kids. Even as an adult, she always trusts and encourages my decisions - always giving advice but never overstepping boundaries. In between all of that she alway gives plenty of hugs, kisses and cuddles.
Reason #2 - she was cool. In the 90's she wore denim jackets and wayfarers. She shopped at the Gap and listened to The Police. She had cropped black hair and wore bright pink lipstick. She could draw any Disney character. She worked for a non-profit teaching computer skills to women re-entering the workforce. She wasn't just cool, she was the epitome of cool. My aunt was an original hipster.
Reason #3 - she was so much fun. Every summer my aunt and uncles would take us to Six Flags Great Adventure in New Jersey. They'd rent a minivan, make sandwiches for lunch and drive 3 hours there and 3 hours back just so my sister and I could ride some roller coasters. My aunt was the only adult who would ride the coasters with us kids (even though I'm pretty sure she didn't like it).

My sister and I were texting each other this morning. I told her about my 3:00AM anxiety. I said, "what if I'm not a good aunt? What if the kid hates me?" To which my sister replied "Haha. How do you think I feel?!"
I guess knowing that the therapy needed to overcome a bad mother is WAY more intense and expensive than the therapy needed to overcome a bad aunt leaves me feeling a bit less anxious. Really, when it comes down to it, I know this kid is going to turn out awesome. She's going to have an amazing family to turn to if she ever needs anything. Just like I have an effortlessly cool, fun, respectful aunt to look to for support and guidance in my new role, my sister has our fantastic, born-to-be-a-mom mom to support and guide her in her new role. As long as the baby doesn't come out looking like the morph from above, I think everything is going to be ok. I can't wait to meet her.

Broken English

Since my last post I went on an epic road trip to Florida for Christmas. I met John's family for the first time, spent Christmas with them, ate the most amazing sweet potato tater tots ever, went to Medieval Times with John's best friends where we singlehandedly offended every family in our section with soccer hooligan-esque songs about jousting, convinced three of his very radical Florida friends to road trip back with us to spend New Year's Eve in Brooklyn, swam with wild manatees, got attacked by swans, was named go-cart champion of Funland and ate my first "Happy Birthday Jesus" cake.

On the drive back, the aforementioned awesome friends + John had to rush me to the hospital in Richmond, VA due to extreme dehydration setting off my bum ticker. After 8 hours, a state of the art heart scan (only available at this hospital in Richmond and Harvard), three bags of fluid and a couple of shots of intravenous sedatives (I'm a nervous wreck), we were back on our merry way.

 After spending the next week and a half in bed recovering from the being the sickest I've ever been. It was time for me to face the world. 

First stop - Arab American Family Support Center to tutor women immigrants taking the citizenship exam. Still a little shaky from over a week of bed rest, it took me a little longer to get moving that usual which resulted in me being late. I hate being late, a lot. That mixed with the fact that this was my first time volunteering on this project made me really nervous. Before every project begins, the team leader goes through a quick orientation with the newbies. I knew I was missing the orientation. As I rushed from the train to the center thoughts of just turning around and going home flooded my brain. How was I going to know what to do? How could I possibly participate? What if I messed up? Fuck it, do this. 

Surprisingly, nothing terrible happened. It actually went really well. Even though I missed the orientation the team leader was able to quickly review the project with me, gave me a packet and set me up with Hafsah from Yemen. Hafsah lives in Bensonhurst with her husband (who became a US Citizen when they first moved to the US) and her 5 sons. She's lived in the same house for 14 years. Her husband owns a grocery store where her older sons work. She is the only one left in her immediate family who is not an American citizen. Hafsah is modern and fashionable - well dressed, wearing make-up, with a leopard print scarf covering her hair. Through long pauses and broken English, she introduced herself. 

The naturalization exam is comprised of three components - writing, reading and speaking - so for the next 90 minutes we reviewed a practice test of the written exam, Hafsah practiced writing the answers in English and we did a mock interview like the one she'll have on the day of her exam. Though she knew the answer to almost every question it was clear that she didn't understand the meaning to all the words. Since I don't speak Arabic it was a challenge to explain the translations of things like "separation of power" and "petition the government" but with help from some of the more advanced students in the group and an Arabic-English translation dictionary Hafsah was able to really understand the meaning behind the words she was studying. She had been reviewing this test for months, memorizing all the answers, learning how to read a new language and write with a new alphabet but it took her communicating and connecting with other human beings to make sense of all of her hard work. To see the excitement and pride on her face when the lightbulb went on was absolutely incredible. 

This project is very special and amazing - it gives women the opportunity to help empower other women. This is paramount considering that in Hafsah's native Yemen it is estimated that only 64% of all grade school girls are actually enrolled in schooling - of that 64% it is estimated that only 50% will complete the first 6 years of schooling.

I'm signed up for this project again next week and am looking forward to finding out Hafsah's exam date - which she should have found out this week or last. I'm excited to continue to prepare her and other women for the exam, to help them become more confident in their ability to communicate in English and most important to help facilitate what could possibly be the most attention to education these women have ever experienced.