tis the season.

I'm visiting this time for another Meyer's family Christmas, each one is different than the one before. Inconsistency is the consistency my family thrives upon, like the cast of a highly addictive reality TV show. I decided to head out of LA late at night to avoid traffic, however midway through the drive I encountered a mile long line of 'wide load' vehicles transporting large airplane parts. I felt like I was in some sort of post-apocolyptic movie. After I had finally passed the midnight, desert government transport of alien aircraft parts, I arrived in Mesa at about 5 a.m. Mesa is a combination of extremely rich golfers, and people who never left home....in that baby bump sort of way....get it?
'Welcome to Agritopia', I read the sign out loud every time I enter my sister's neighborhood, and it never ceases to creep me out....even when decorated with Christmas lights. My sister Melissa lives in a new "development" as they call it, in a suburb of Mesa. The neighborhood is comprised of "pods", as they call them, which are basically 8-10 houses in a U formation, with a small green patch in the middle. While my sister and her family enjoy walks around the pod, and to the neighborhood coffee shop....I throw up in my mouth.

"They still aren't here. Your room is ready. I love you", said my sister when she opened the door, with my brand new drooling niece Isabelle in her arms. The 'they' she was referring to was my mom Pam and her significant other, Marty, who were going to join us for the holiday season. My parents are divorced, so we alternate holidays between mom and dad.
"Dad sends his love." my sister told me, in a monotone 5 a.m voice
"I know, he CC'd me on the e-card, or were you talking about the text message?" I asked
"Text? I was talking about the voicemail".

Ever since my father managed to get a hold on modern technology I have had to create a 'dad' folder in my e-mail account, and our T-mobile text and minute limit was recently upgraded.....my dad texted me to tell me.

We sat down on the couch and chatted for a while, I browsed the room with my eyes, noticing the alphabetized DVD's, the color coordination of the room was impressive and precise down to the coffee coasters and lamp shades.
"Wanna hold her?" Melissa asked, giving Isabelle a nudge.
"Uh...sure," I was hesitant because chances were the only reason this kid was awake was because of the IBS all infants suffer from. I haven't had much interaction with babies up until Isabelle, and i've always wondered what people do with them. I mean babies don't do much....the only thing I could ever think of would be to pet it, but that's weird. I would feel strange just sitting there petting a babies bald head. So here I was, just holding her.....5 minutes passed, 10 minutes passed, 15....just staring at her, and oddly enough I was enjoying myself. There's something really satisfying about a human being who's not smart enough to dislike you. As far as she's concerned she likes me :) and that's enough affirmation for me.