girl, you'll be a woman soon


i haven't written about hannah, specifically, in ages.

it's not that she's any less special than she was in the early years of this blog. it's not that she's become boring. it's not that she hasn't done anything worth writing about. to be honest, for a while now, she just been the least volatile of the on-goings in the world of the o'kelleys. for that, truly, she probably deserves some sort of medal.

since hannah started the second grade back in august, though, times, they are a changin'. the age that she and her classmates currently occupy is a weird-ass age. 7-8 year-olds are still incredibly impressionable. any time she comes home from school, church, or the henson's house, or time with amy and katie, she's picked up some new mannerism or tone or inflection that i know she didn't pick up from me or her mommy. sometimes, the newness is cute and becoming. most of the time, it's kind of cringe-worthy, mainly because you can tell most of the act is a mimic. a subconscious and innocent mimic, but behaviors she's witnessed and is trying on for size. whether it's snapping her neck, rolling her eyes, drawing out her syllables, or constantly exclaiming that something is "amazing", there's a part of me that wants to shake her and say, "hannah, you are better than this."

i don't shake her. she isn't better than "this", because "this" is relative. we are all sponges. no matter the age. hell, if i read a killer column by bill simmons or bethlehem shoals or tommy craggs or will leitch or whomever in the world of sports, there's a great chance, intended or not, that i'll rip some element of their style off the next time i sit down to write about sports, myself.

my eight year-old is no different. it's just the imitation is ratcheted up to the 100th degree. hannah hasn't had a chance to develop a niche or personality or creation of her own just yet. i suppose you could play the "there is nothing new under the sun" card and argue that all of us are nothing more than snapshots and memories and left-behinds of those in our circle of influence that have come before us. as a cynic's cynics, i get that take. i just don't buy it now that i am a father of three.

as hannah and caroline have grown from infancy to toddlerhood to the level of kid that hannah is at now, each step of the way, a parent can witness someone truly and genuinely unique in their eyes, the way they watch the world, the way they smile, the kindness that is born in them and into all of their early interactions, among hundreds of other things that are just...them.

then the world takes over. their parents and their parents' friends and their family and their daycare teachers and their sunday school teachers and their friends and their friends' families start to socialize and condition all the snowflake right out of them. the older they get, the more their looks remind you of the people they spend the most time around, the people they look up to, the people they see on television, the people they begin to think are cool versus those that aren't.

"hannah, why are you making that face?"

"what face?"

"that face. that face that i saw half your class making when i went with you to desoto caverns. that face.

"oh, i don't know. i guess i like that face."

"stop making that face, please."

"no, daddy. nothing is wrong with that face."

"hannah, that face is a mean face. it makes people think you don't like them."

"no, it doesn't, daddy. it's just a face. don't get so uptight."

"uptight. what the fu..? do you even know what uptight means?"

"sure, daddy, uptight means...uptight. you know what uptight means."

"i do know what uptight means, hannah. i need you to stop making that face just because your friend makes that face."

"fine, fine, daddy. i won't make that face."

...

"hannah! you just made the face again."

hannah makes all kinds of faces. she's a fucking smartass all the time, likely because i or the kids in her class or the older kids she hangs around with are smartasses all the time. i can't really fault her for it. she gets it honestly.

"ugh, daddy! leave me alone."

how many times will i hear that over the next ten years? 100? 1000? more than that?

it's not that she's a woman yet. it's just that i see now she's going to be.

we kidded around with each other christmas day about how old she felt. she put on this koala hat that she's wearing right now. the looks she made felt older. the things that were coming out of her mouth felt older. the way she took control of us going to get chinese take-out after her birthday party felt like i was being bossed around by the older sister that i never had.

it's something that i'll be tracking closely in 2012. there will be more hannah specific posts. and caroline specific posts. and june specific posts. as i get out and away from the church a little bit, i hope that i'll have more time to document them instead of the bullshit around them.

when i look back on my childhood, i have more vivid memories from my third grade year than any other in elementary school. i feel like this is going to be a big year for her. for all of us.

as we make intentional efforts to move out and up into a bigger house early next year, it may mean hannah changing schools and putting all of her learned behaviors to a test she hasn't really studied for. if that ends up being the case, i hope that i'll have my finger on her pulse in some ways i may have missed over the last 12 to 24 to 36 months.

happy birthday, first baby girl. here's to the next 8 years.

don't hate me.