To My Nephew

Dear Baby Aidan,

You should come out now.

There is a whole host of people who have been awaiting your arrival and we all look forward to meeting you. Your family is very nice and your parents will make sure you are never short on love. You also have a nana, nannee, papop, tia and uncle willing and anxious to adore every fiber of you.

I know the process of being born can be quite scary. We have all gone through this experience at some point in time. But don't worry, chances are you will not remember anything. And the world is so beautiful when you take the time to look at it. You will not see it for a couple months while your eyes develop, but believe me on this one. The world is worth the fear of birth and the waiting on cognition and development to take it in.

You will like the sun. Sometimes it comes out in brilliant rays and holds you captive and warm. Sometimes it rains, but I think you will like the rain as well. If you let it, it will sing you soft lullabies of pitter-pat while you drift off to sleep. And I can't wait to introduce you to mud, the marriage of rain and earth made perfect in puddles and dirt pies. It is not always so nice to stay clean. Mud helps you deal with the inexplicable impulse to be dirty and happy.

Today is a good day to be born. Spring has arrived in this city and sits anxiously on the tips of branches. The world is pregnant with flowers ready to burst forth with a silent TADA! You are also ready to bloom into the beautiful person you were created to be. You can be my littler flower, of course, until gender differentiation sets in and you become my little bear or warrior.

Don't be afraid. On the other side, there are twenty and more pairs of arms outstretched and ready to show you that the world is truly wonderful.

I look forward to meeting you and hearing your first little cry.

With love and affection,

Your Tia Katie

By the Bottle

I don't drink Irony by the glass, I drink it by the bottle.

At first it goes down a little bitter, as irony does, but by the end of mug one -because we were drinking this irony from mugs as first class ladies do- the subtle hints of fruit came out over the alcohol. Of course, by this time we also smelled more of alcohol than popcorn and our heads whooshed a little when we felt the need to stand up. Sometimes we would stand up just for the fun of the whooshing.

Irony doesn't give you a headache or hangover; it lingers slightly on the back of your tongue reminding you that life goes on but that it doesn't need to be all bad, just a little bitter to swallow before you get used to what's next.