Stinky

Stinky is my little brother.  His real name is Will, I honestly don't know how this nickname came to be, bit for as long as he or I can remember I have called him stinky.  

I came to a terrifying realization recently as I was visiting my grandmothers house.  I have not seen my little brother since Christmas, but he was at my grandparent's house this summer and she measured him on the door where we have all been measured since 1990.   When I last saw my Stinky he was at least and inch or two shorter than me.  When I looked at the door I saw to my horror that he was THREE inches taller than me.  THREE.  Are you doing the math here?  That means that in less than a year he has grown FOUR inches.  FOUR.  

My whole little family is growing up.  It's happening fast.  Really fast.  I have to get used to it whether I like it or not.  

This picture is my favorite picture of him I have ever taken.  He is a ham, but I caught him before he knew I had the camera out.  This is the way I know him, love him and miss him.

The Crooked Tree, Shop One in the Search for the Perfect Coffee House

Part photography project, part Seattle girl looking for good coffee, I decided that I was no longer satisfied with the overly roasty flavors of Starbucks, or the watered down beverages at java city.  I listened to the buss around campus and heard more than one person talking about The Crooked Tree.  
The Crooked Tree is in Uptown, right off of McKinney on Routh.  Right in the middle of a residential street, this house-gone-coffee shop blends right into the quaint Uptown neighborhood.  When I walked in the place was full of funky artwork, students on their MacBooks, and eclectic antique furniture.  I walked up to the barista and asked what their signature drink was.  She told me about their Dolce Inverno, which was vanilla soymilk steeped in earl grey tea and then steamed with a couple pumps of vanilla syrup.  Sure, it wasn't coffee but it sounded good.  

I walked around and took pictures while the barista made my drink.  I recognized a few people from SMU there, so maybe its not the best place to hide out to do homework.  Overall, the atmosphere was comfortable, the prices were fair, and my drink was delicious, I will definitely be going back.

Home is Where Your House is

Moving is somewhat of a curse word in some homes. In mine it’s a way of life. My parents grew up moving, their parents grew up moving, and I was raised the same way. To never feel connected to places, but rather to people. 
Texas, California, Singapore, Australia, Boston, Washington, the story of my life. There are people all over the world who have moved far more than I have. I know, some of them are my best friends. It seems that something dies inside when you have to leave people that many times; when you are forced to become a part of a community where no one knows who you are. I've seen it happen, from distance, of course. I have told friends many times that life is all about perspective. Do you see an opportunity or a horrible situation? I saw an opportunity. 

My life has been one of fresh starts, world travel, and the constant promise of uncertainty. Knowing that I would live in one place for four years initially made me feel trapped. In my community high school students tended to have a lot of connections based on the fact that they lived there their entire lives. I, on the other hand, didn’t know anyone; I knew I would never have a history in a community. My pre-school teacher would never become my employer; my teachers would never have known…anyone in my family. I had two options: one, give up; two, learn to self-advocate at the age of 14. I became immersed in the community, making connections whenever possible. I volunteered my baby-sitting services to the moms of the other boys on my little brother’s baseball team. I donated cakes to local auctions. I volunteered for anything that caught my interest. It didn’t take long at all before I no longer had to seek opportunities. Soon I was being requested to volunteer at functions to raise money for a local restaurant that caters to the homeless community; I was invited to attend a mission trip to Tijuana; I was asked to be the photo editor of the yearbook by a teacher who is notorious for not even knowing her students names. 
I realized then that simply living in one place doesn’t really entitle a person to anything, and neither does knowing a lot of people. Only after earning respect does one gain success. 

I have a clear bias that moving is a way of life that forces a person to be a self-advocate. It forces families to stick together, in the periods of time when you are all each other have. As well as causing you to realize that the connections you make with others are really all that you leave behind. 

What I wonder is what it is like to live in one place your whole life? Does it create a feeling of freedom in knowing what to expect from your life? Or might a person feel trapped by the expectations of the community that raised them?

Georgie

Georgie is my big brother.  He is about three years older than me, a foot taller than me, and I used to make fun of him for not going on the big roller coasters with me because he was scared.  Now he is an Airborne Ranger, and second Lieutenant in the Army, and I am VP education for Alpha Chi Omega.  The tables have turned.  

I was the crazy one when we were little kids.  I was always performing for the family, and making up weird games, even warding off neighborhood bullies.  Then somehow we were all grown up and I was standing on the sidelines with my mom watching him jump out of a blackhawk helicopter at his Airborne Ranger graduation.  

Georgie may be refferred to as Lieutenant Kane now.  He may be off in foreign countries in situations I can't imagine.  But to me, he will always be my Georgie. 

Little Drew

I am just one of those people who has to take care of everyone.  There I said it.  I accept it, and I'm not ashamed. 

I started baby-sitting at a very young age mostly because my little brother is seven years younger than me, and I learned very quickly how to take care of a baby.  By the age of thirteen I was baby-sitting for multiple families, and to the glorious point when your have more than one job and can say no to the family with the stinky children.  

But there is a magical moment in every babysitters career, when you meet your regulars.  For me it was in high school, I was fifteen, and met them at my little brother's baseball game.  

From the first time I baby-sat for the Smith's I knew that they would be my regulars.  I played with them got them to bed on time, and had the house put back together before the parents got home, and complimented me profusely, boosting my fifteen year old ego.  

 I baby-sat for the Smith's every couple weeks all through high school, and became quite attached.  I found that I would look forward to seeing them, and they would look forward to me baby-sitting as well.  I saw a turning point suddenly when I realized that I was the only babysitter that the Smith's would allow.  The youngest child, Drew, would have a meltdown around anyone else.  I had been around the Smith's so much that I hadn't noticed how the way I talked to Drew hadn't changed in the four years I had been babysitting for them.  I assumed that the way he would go from being fine, to inconsolable at the snap of your fingers.  I didn't notice until I baby-sat another little girl that was the same age as Drew, and halfway through our game of veggie tales and fairies go to the candy store it hit me that this little girl was speaking in full elaborate sentences far beyond Drew's vocabulary.  

This is exactly at this moment that the awkwardness of being a babysitter sets in.  You are attached to these kids, and they are attached to you, but you are an employed caretaker. You are not a parent, and have no authority in the way that they are to be raised.  So what do you do when you realize that there is something wrong with a child you are babysitting?   Especially when you suspect something as life changing as autism.  

I did some research.  I did a lot of thinking.  I decided that I couldn't let it go, and I had to have a talk with Mr. and Mrs. Smith.  I was nervous when I arrived at the house that day.  But to my relief, Mrs. Smith ushered me in and told me where they would be going as usual and then broke the news about Drew.

She had been taking him to a speech therapist, who told Mrs. Smith that Drew had no issues speaking, he had issues communicating, because he was autistic.

While I was relieved that I didn't have to say it myself. The whole situation left me thinking. As a babysitter you are invited into someone's home to take care of their children. They trust you to keep their children safe, until they return. But does it go beyond that? Is it my place as a babysitter to alert the parents of sensitive health issues I recognize? Or inappropriate behavior the kids have exhibited?  Or do we just stay out of it and make sure they get to bed on time

Game Day as I see it...

Make cupcakes not war!

Cupcake shoes!
Cupcake backpacks!
Cupcake jewelry!
Giant cupcakes!
Cupcake weddings!
Cupcake clothes!
cupcake perfume!
Baby cupcake beanies!
Cupcake band-aids!
Cupcake tats!

It all started about five years ago.  I had my first internship at one of the many cupcake bakeries cropping up all over the country at the age of fifteen.  Within a year that bakery I worked at expanded to three stores and all were packed with customers.  Different magazines came every weekend to write articles about cupcake weddings, or "The best cupcake in Seattle."  

Now I work at a new bakery that features cupcakes everyday, trying to get their piece of the cupcake craze.  What I wonder, is how much longer is this cupcake stuff going to last?  It's everywhere!  People are eating cupcakes, wearing cupcakes, even tatting themselves with cupcakes!  This food trend has lasted for five years, at some point are people going to get tired of it?  And if they do, what's next! This has been on my mind recently as one of my dreams is to own a bakery of my own, and I would love to hop on the next food trend wagon.  Only time will tell what comes next!

Just for fun, this cupcake related clip always cracks me up.