Where your heart lives

I took a week off from work to come down and meet my new nephew. He'll be exactly two months old this week, but he is not quite 9 pounds. He is a wee little thing but man, does he have lungs on him.

The biggest change, my sister says, is that she constantly worries about him. She's worried she is somehow failing him. Worried about him feeling unloved. Worried that he doesn't recognize her yet. Worried that he'll be diagnosed with autism like his cousin. Worried about going back to work in a few months. Basically, she's worried about it all. She looks exhausted but also very happy. I hate to tell her this, but I have a feeling that she won't ever stop worrying about him. I remember reading once that the decision to have a child is basically to decide to let your heart live outside your body for the rest of your life.

I am very happy for my sister and brother-in-law. For all their worries, I am confident that they will be amazing parents. But I'm also reminded that this is not for me. I like my nephew. He keeps smiling at me with this funny little toothless smile (and no, he's not just pooping). But I cannot imagine being a parent. I am fully aware of how ill-prepared I'd be to let one little insistent diapered dictator run my life. But this trip is cementing for me already that I am completely content without one of my own. I will enjoy spoiling my nephew. I can think of places I'd like to take him when he gets a bit older. But the true joy of being an aunt is that you can enjoy the fun moments, but you don't get stuck with diaper duty, and you won't deal with croup or saving for college.

I suppose that sounds selfish. I am constantly told that I will change my mind. But I don't think I will. It doesn't mean I don't like kids. I already adore my little nephew, but not the same way his parents do. It's their hearts living outside their bodies. It's only a piece of mine.

But somehow that is more than enough for me.

Zombie jamboree

Ben and I have been watching a lot of scary movies lately. All told, so far we've screened

"El Orfanato":



"Session 9":



"Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon":


"Dead Snow":


and
"The Descent":


All have been pretty satisfying in different ways. I wish "El Orfanato" had ended earlier than it did, but apparently someone felt like giving a pseduo-happy ending (albeit not a traditional one) was a necessity. "Dead Snow" was a ridiculously gory, jumpy ride even though I know its critics complain it brings nothing new to the genre. Honestly, so what? It was a fun movie. "The Descent" was claustrophobic and creepy, and "Session 9" just had an awesomely eerie vibe the whole time. "Behind the Mask" wasn't really scary, but it was very fun and some extremely hilarious moments.

I think my favorite was "Dead Snow." It had sooo many jump-out-of-your-seat moments, and I think I actually crushed Ben's hand I was holding it so tightly. The gore is ridiculous and it definitely gave me reason to appreciate the tensile strength of my intestines. :D It had a good sense of humor about it. I've read reviews that complain the characters are too stock, but I didn't actually mind that one bit. I liked having no idea who might survive. Most horror movies you can predict who will be the last one standing. So, good for you, Norway and your frozen fjords. It was a blast.

We've got a whole slew of scary movies still left to go. I love October!

Paper Heart

This week I caught "Paper Heart" at the Red River Theatre in Concord. It is a quirky, charming little movie about defining and finding love.

*Spoilers*

Some of my favorite moments came during the documentary segments, when Charlyne Yi talked to real couples, real scientists and real kids. At one point, she was in a biker bar and a big burly biker named Jester was explaining how love works.

I'm paraphrasing, but he said something like, "It's like if you need a tool or a part for your bike, and I have it. I'm gonna give it to you because I love you. And I don't need anything back."

That's it. That's it right there. You don't need anything back. That's what it has taken me all these years to figure out.

There is an awkward moment when Charlyne declares she hasn't found love, and the consequences hurt her more than I think her character expects it will.

And at the end, she says three of the most magical words. Not "I love you," but "I missed you."

Sometimes I think those words have so much more power. And who knows? Maybe they really do mean the same thing. Maybe not.


*End of spoiler*


You should go see it, if for no other reason than these kids on a playground in Georgia. Truly priceless.