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I’m going through a period of time where I really dig the oldest niece.

She is morphing.

Not quite tween, not quite over being petulant at times and as interested in her dolls as she is in the boy who is making her feel “funny” who lives in the neighborhood.

Good Lord, she is growing up and there is good (and then the pre-tween stuff that will make the adults in her world seek Xanax.)

But the thing that she does that I like is that she is not only very aware of what is going on the world around her (this must include Hannah Montana and Pres. George Bush, ironically. I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS.) but that she is really funny. The littlest niece is a fashion maven, confident and most likely headed for a life that she chooses.

The oldest one has gone through some awkwardness  but on the other hand, she is whip smart. And she is funny. Very, very funny. She calls me Frizzy McFrizz because of my curly hair (smartass.) I have seen the movie Down With Love fifteen times now. I really need to just go and get her  Pillow Talk because, well, I think she would be smitten with it. She is not a nostalgic child, but she loves Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys.

Who doesn’t dig the Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys? She wants to take over as the Carolyn Keene writer. I think that’s just fine.

I think that Homer and Squeegee Monkey are really great parents. They have raised some absolutely wonderful children.

Me, I’m the sideshow act in the family but I’m also the surrogate older female in their lives (damn, the OLDER female in their lives. I sigh) but since my mother died, I try to do what I can. The little one asked to call me grandmother about a year ago and I didn’t know whether or not to laugh or cry.

You see, they don’t have that. Homer and I did. It’s sad but that’s the life I lead. We had things. They don’t. You adapt.

I went to watch a Pee-wee Championship basketball game last night with Corn (the oldest) and they lost miserably. On the other hand, she could have cared less because she got a second place trophy and she was with her friends. She lost a molar on the court, played some decent defense and she ran like a girl.

Yeah, she ran like a little girl with the wind in her hair hanging out with her buds. She didn’t give a crap her team lost. And my throat constricted.

I remember when she was born and how happy I was. Other than her parents, I can’t imagine a person happier on this earth when that kids said hello to this planet. I was scared for her and ultimately delighted. I can’t have kids, so this was the next best thing. (Damn, I wish my mother was here to see her play and have fun. Big Daddy came to watch and I was so happy that he did. He lives in the suburbs of Hooterville (Yikes, he needs to move to town) and a deer will wreck your car in a second just for fun. I am not kidding. She was happy he came too.)

So, in three years, she will be a teen. I hope she does well. I really do. And as for her little sister, well, Corn is going to have her hands full once they get out of that stage of beating the shit hell out of each other.

And this is of the good.