My Manny

I spend a lot of time thinking about how different my life would be if I lived near my family. How much they could do for me; How much I could do for them. The "how much" becomes more and more as I get older. As my parents get older. As life progresses and things just happen. Things that make me need their support. Things that make them need my support.

For now, its simple. My husband works in San Jose. I don't work. So we live near San Jose. And I love our life up there. I love the weather. The freeways. The green hills. The laid back intellectual culture. But I miss the people down here. At times I even miss the insanity.

Today I realized that there I things about being down here that I miss that I never even knew existed. For example, my manny. My manny is an almost eleven year old boy. He is athletic. He is too smart for his own good. He gets cranky when he is hungry. And has a sense of humor and wit that rivals mine at his age.

Buddy, my nephew and first godson, is my manny. He spent the night at my parents last night and was charged with the task of helping me out in the morning because everyone else was busy. I love that my family goes out of there way to get someone to spend their morning with me - even though I do it on my own, all alone, the majority of the time.

To be honest, I wasn't quite sure how the day would go. But as soon as Owen's voice called out at 7am, Buddy's face popped into Owen's room. Big smile on both of their faces as Owen screamed out, "Buddy's home!".

As I did the laundry and got the kid's clothes ready for our morning routine - Starbucks, Donut, Park, Grocery Store - Buddy played with them in the upstairs "playroom". My folding was interrupted by Josie's rebellious "poopie" speech. She says "poopie" over and over until she gets a good enough rise out of me. I told her not to say it again and she closed the door and said it again. "I can still hear you!" I yelled through the door. As I walked I away I heard Buddy's muffled voice through the door telling her if she said poopies again she wouldn't be getting any donuts. So far so good, I thought.

On the way to get coffee and donuts, I realized I had no gas. Buddy and I developed a plan of action so that if I did run out of gas, we wouldn't have to waste any time thinking about who was doing what. He said he knew South Pas like the back of his hand so was going to run and get the gas. I would stay behind with the children until he returned. Fortunately we made it. But it was comforting to know that I wasn't alone this morning.

Buddy escorted Josie and Owen safely to Winchels while I scoured the car for cash. He waited in the car with them while I went to Starbucks. And at the park, we split up and did man-on-man defense. No one fell, no one cried, and no one got lost.

When I said it was time to leave, Buddy said he needed a few more minutes to conquer everything. I was suddenly reminded he was an almost 11 year old boy, so I of course obliged and watched my children while he conquered uncharted playground equipment.

As we walked to the car, I told him his new nickname, Manny - a combo of "Man" and "Nanny". I think he was more into the name because of Manny Ramirez, but either way he accepted the title with pride.

Truly, honestly, sincerely, being with Buddy made my morning better. Made it the best it could possibly be. And made it much better than my usual morning, all alone in Morgan Hill.