The Little Chump and Schmoopy

Written by Auntie Jen ***

So I had decided last Thursday night against visiting the land of the Sweet Onion over the weekend since I have a big test tonight, but Rachel quickly changed my mind in less than a minute to come anyway.

I'm glad I did.

I got to see the little mister Lucas, aka, Chump, and the sweet little cutie pie, Schmoopy (aka, Abrianna).

I like nicknames that you can cuddle with, and that roll off the tongue. My ex's niece's nickname was tiggy--not an over flattering nickname, especially when you find out that she got that name from her older brother, who could not pronounce the adult's version of Titty Pig, but he COULD say Tiggy. Apparently, she loved her mother's breast milk quite a bit. Nothing wrong with that!!

I think Lucas is quite the chump. I'm sure there is a better nickname out there for him, but until some genius individual can come up with something better, that is what it is in my noggin.

Schmoopy is something different. I've heard it tossed around before by a distant friend, and it just stuck in my brain when I saw Abrianna this weekend. Schmoopy. Schmooples. Schmoopie pie. THAT is a cuddly name, for a cute little big blue-eyed doll.

Unfortunately Lucas has grown out of his baby words that crack the non-Rachels and non-moms up, such as bench which sounds like bitch, or Frog which sounds like.... yeah. Earlier this summer, after a gleeful session of getting him to say frog you bench, all of us got bashfully red when he stood up in church and yelled that phrase, making Rachel turn all shades of pinks, purples, then red. Red for pissed off in a righteous and yes, justifiable manner.

Kids are cute, especially ones that don't fully realize what they are saying. Lucas came up to me and said, "Sister has a penis!" I had to explain to him that only boys and men, such as him and daddy, have penis'. He apparently got it, because he very forcefully told me Mom has a 'Jinah.

He has now started a habit of loving to pray. He was very hungry and wasn't about to wait for us to stop talking, so he suddenly burst into "dank yew Hesus for food. I love yew. Amen." During the preacher's prayer he would repeat every phrase he could catch during prayer: "Lord Jesus," ((Yord Hesus)) "thank you for this Sabbath" ((dank yew for dis Sabbaff)).... I can't help but crack my eye open and stare at him with a smile on my face, as he kneels and veriously seriously, with hands clasped tightly, repeats the prayer word for word, and when he misses some words, he mumbles until he catches back up.

Watching Rick and Rachel raise these two Adorables, I have to say my view of parenthood has changed and my perception expanded. As the youngest of the three Drake kids, I have little to no experience around children. When I first held Lucas and after shedding a few tears of awe, I was downright scared of hurting him somehow. Now I look at him and desperately wish I could go back to my childhood years of simplicity and blissful naivity, begging Mom to kiss my owie over and over, dancing around to get everyone's attention focused on me, and laughing and laughing when the adults laugh even though I don't get what the joke is.

Instead, I am now the adult. Wondering where in the world my life has gone, and how I got here. Not that "here" is a bad thing, but that "here" has whizzed here so fast I don't know where the past few years have gone--they dissipated with the blink of an eye, and now I've got bills to pay, jobs to hunt for, and nagging fears of more unsuccessful days ahead.

I can be one of those bad aunts who live vicariously through the nephew and niece, and participate in their joys, tears, happiness, child prattlings, and let their new life experiences jog my own memories of those younger years, to hold onto those memories to sustain me through these rough waves that dash against my small frame, and hold onto that life rope called Family and Hope.

I was sad to leave yesterday, and sad to kiss both the chump and schmoopy goodbye, but I have a new resolve to learn to ask people to kiss my owies more, then jump back up and go rev my engines and tackle my life that is set before me.

I am not alone.

We are not alone.

We have each other. Whatever pain and troubles face us all, we have a connection to each other, whether through genetic ties or similar life pains. we can kiss each other's owies, hold each other tight, and say "I love you" more. Because it is true. Like the security Lucas and Abrianna have, we have between all of us, even if we don't know each other.