He’s Him and I’m Mo.

I love my nephew more than any child I’ve ever known to date.

Look at him: how could I not?

My nephew thinks I live in the computer (thanks, iChat™).

He always asks me if it’s snowing in “Cand-an-duh,” and when I say that indeed it is, he begs me to let him come visit.

Of course you can, Precious. Any time.

Every time I talk to him, the first thing he IMMEDIATELY asks, before “How are you?” or “What are you doing?” or even the good ol’ standby “I PEED ON THE POTTY!” is, “WHERE’S KYKEE?” I’m certain he loves my husband more than he loves me, which is just really lousy, inasmuch as Poor Kyle never fed or burped or changed the kid. But I still love him. Dearly.

Sometimes, if I think about it too much, I am overcome with gut-wrenching sobs at the idea that something horrible might ever happen to him. What if he runs away or gets kidnapped? Or gets hit by a car in the middle of the street? Or drowns in the bathtub? Or chokes on a slice of apple? Or accidentally dies playing pass-out games with his adolescent friends after school? Or gets targeted in a terrorist attack? Or any number of awful, terrible, life-ending possibilities?

How could I handle it?

(I’m not sure there’s an answer to that question; all I know is I’m certain I won’t be able to handle such anxieties with my own children, which means I should never have children.)

He calls me “Mo!” or sometimes “Momo!” {always with an exclamation point} (an evolution from back when I tried to get him to call me “Auntie Mill,” which soon turned into simply “Mill,” and finally, my favourite, “Mo!” Survival of the fittest, and fit it does.)

Here’s 22 seconds of proof:

(Just for the record, this voicemail is six months old. He left it for me in September of 2009 and I have cherished it every week, never having the heart to erase it, until it finally occurred to me that I could record it. I’m sentimental like that.)

A few days ago, I tricked my husband into thinking I was pregnant (shortest-lived April Fool’s Day joke in the history of the world, by the way), and later, after he composed himself, he confessed that he had felt totally excited and thrilled at the thought that we’d be parents (which was at the same time both a joy and a fright to hear, because on the one hand how sweet is it that my husband’s excited to have kids, but on the other hand HELLEN KELLER, MY HUSBAND’S EXCITED TO HAVE KIDS). And so it’s been on my mind a lot lately, this whole idea of parenthood and motherhood and kidhood and the like, and I have come to the conclusion that with me as awesome as I am, and Poor Kyle as awesome as he is, how can our spawn possibly fail?

(Famous last words, right?)

No, but seriously: I think it’s reasonable to assume that our baby would turn out not unlike my much-beloved nephew—you know, same general bloodline, equally stellar parents, innate propensity to use words like “innate” and “propensity…”

And if so? If our little baby turns out even half as sweet and kind as my sister’s kid? That’d be just fine by me.

(However, if our baby doesn’t measure up, let me tell you what…heads will roll.)

About Camille

I'm Camille. I have a butt-chin. I live in Canada. I was born in Arizona. I like Diet Dr. Pepper. Hello. You can find me on Twitter @archiveslives, Facebook at facebook.com/archivesofourlives, instagram at ArchivesLives, and elsewhere.
This entry was posted in Married Life, nephew, Poor Kyle. Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to He’s Him and I’m Mo.

  1. i feel the same way about my future children. if i love them half as much as i love my nieces/nephews, i’ll be just fine. (and chances are, i’ll love them more).

  2. Jeff L. says:

    I’ve been trying to tell you guys that for a while. Why does nobody listen to me?



  3. Allison says:

    SO… You are going to start trying for a baby? This will lead to extra bloggy excitement no doubt!

  4. Whitney says:

    DO it! DO it!

  5. you cant help but love your own baby. And as long as you truly love the person you are married to, faults and all, when your kid comes out with their face shape, you still love it :) xoxo…

    am I the only one who was expecting to see my winning name on this post for the nora headband?! whats the beef sister?

  6. Chloe says:

    I’m sure you’ll love your baby… You can’t help it! It’s YOUR baby…
    Are you planning to have a baby??
    Some years ago, I tried to trick MJ into thinking I was pregnant too. But I’m not a good liar. And he got mad, and said I shouldn’t play with his feelings… Oops!

  7. GRANMAMA says:

    I was hoping that you would never have children because I couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing them on a daily basis. My plan is to NEVER hold them or fall in love with them. I will just be the grandma that lives in the phone and sends them lots of expensive stuff but in UN connected. I think it will probably work as long as I follow through and have no physical contact with them—because, once you touch them that’s the end of it.

    (I am still guarding the princess books for the Canadian Continguency of the family tree—MR. P has never touched them with his grimy little hands.)

  8. holly janeen says:

    its beyond a comfort to me that Jeff wants and loves having kids. in fact, that is what gets me from point A to point B a lot of the time. it especially helps on hard days when i say, “Jeff… remember our kid-less life? do you ever wish we would have waited longer?” and he just smiles and honestly answers, “nope. i love having kids. and i want more.”
    you should read NIE’s blog today… and go to the post called ‘attention all mothers’… that is how i feel. well, not always in the actual moment… but i really do feel that way.
    and just for the record- whenever you do have kids… i think you will do fabulous and so will PK. and dang straight the kid will be cute. no ifs ands or buts about it.

  9. Anonymous says:

    Oh, Mill. You have royally deceived your readers into thinking that your sweet little nephew is, indeed, a cherub. Little do they know. As I am typing this, he is in his new TODDLER bed (no more cribs… shudder) screeching like a dinosaur because he doesn’t want to take a nap. That was not nearly as bad as this morning, though, when he stole my toothbrush, hid it, and then would not tell me where he put it because he could not remember. My first 20 minutes went something like this today:

    Me running around the house searching in trash cans, in the toilet, in the bathtub, under the bed for the missing toothbrushes. Preston following the whole time, thinking we were playing a game and having a gay old time. Finally, in exasperation, I curtly demanded: “Preston, where’s Mommy’s toothbrush?”
    “Umm… Up high, Mom.”
    “Where up high?”
    “In the closet up high.”
    Open the closet door. Nothing.
    “Preston, you can’t even reach up high. Where did you put Mommy’s toothbrush??”
    “Um… Down low.”
    “Where down low??”
    “Um… In the closet down low.”
    “Preston!!! It’s not there!!! WHERE DID YOU PUT MOMMY’S TOOTHBRUSH?????”
    “Umm… Ummmmmm… Ummmmmmm… I don’t know, Mom.”
    “Mommy mad?”
    “Yes! Mommy is very mad! Mommy needs her toothbrush NOW!”
    I stormed around for another 5 minutes, cursing quietly under my breath so he couldn’t hear and then mimic me later, and finally Clint started laughing. I spun around and spat, “Did you hide my toothbrush??? What is wrong with you!”
    “Of course not. Look.”
    And there, in our bed, is where the little devil had hidden the now infamous toothbrush. When Clint rolled over his knee bumped the missing toothbrush. “Thank you,” I snapped, as I grabbed it and headed to the bathroom. My little mini-me followed me in, stared up at me with his father’s blue eyes, and innocently asked, “Mommy not made anymore?”
    “No, Pres. Mommy not mad anymore.”

    Really? Do you really want to have kids? If so, I suggest buying a year’s supply of toothbrushes beforehand. The little devil.

  10. Anonymous says:

    Oh, and Clint said his favorite part of the whole ordeal was when I was trying to reason with him. “You can’t even reach up high,” was his favorite line. Glad I can bring happiness to someone with my idiocy. :)

  11. Isn’t it funny how when you get experience with children that you want ones of your own.

    If you do choose to go down the path of parenthood, I wish you the best of skill in being that awesome parent you envision yourself as.

  12. He is so darling!!! I love that he calls you Mo. Is his name Preston? I adore that name.

    I’m so depressed. My dad and I had voicemails saved for years and somehow they got erased- probably because they were so old. I didn’t know you could record them!

    I can’t wait until you and Kyle become parents. It’s going to be wonderful, you just wait. :)

  13. Kyrie says:

    I think it would be wonderful for you to have a a child. The most wonderful thing about having a child is that you aren’t so alone. My favorite part about being a parent is you don’t have time to wallow in self pity. Every need of that sweet child is in your hands.
    Lauriah is 15 months old yesterday and I love when she looks at me and says ” Mom, I love!” She leave out the “you.” Everything about My sweet baby is blissful. I did not feel that way for a while but when I lost my second baby it brought a new light to even the sometimes frustrating things Lauriah does.
    When you are ready Camille, You will know. It is a wonderful experience, parenthood.

  14. Cristin says:

    So… is this like your way of announcing to the world that you are going off birth control?

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