The Girl and The Boy

They call me Auntie.

Or rather she does, he doesn't talk yet. (Although the other day I'm sure he said my name). They are the children of my heart, the offspring of two of my dearest friends who I choose to name as family, because that's how they feel to me. They are the first children to regularly fall asleep in my arms as I do the sleepy dance, or at my side as I read to them.

She and I paint toenails and discuss paleontology, dinosaurs and favorite colours. (when she grows up she wants to be a paleontologist, an astronaut and a veterinarian - I hope her parents have good RESP's). She is always thoughtful, always considering the why and the how. You can not fool her, or gloss over a tough question. Her vocabulary astounds me on an almost daily basis. We cuddle on the couch and watch videos, we play games and mess hair and she invariably teaches me something. I hope that I teach her as well.

He is smaller and all boy; a tumble of energy, bouncing off things, falling, getting up and running again. A constant smiling boy: even when he's tired it's easy to wring a smile or a giggle from him. He goes to me for comfort more easily than she did at his age. He always seems to get great amusement from his sister - they are almost always comrades (almost always, for now anyway).

I love them both more than I can express. Their presence in my life has brought a dimension that I never expected, for which I am eternally grateful. I marvel at the feeling, when I leave them, of exuberant exhaustion that leads to a smiling peace.

I love those kids. And why not?

They call me auntie.