Today, we spent Christmas day and Chris’s 44th birthday at his dad’s younger sister’s house. This sister has three daughters, all of whom have moved to different parts of the world (Perth, New Zealand, and Canada). From everything I’ve observed about the way this aunt and her husband have raised their kids and the relationship they all have with each other across five people, it’s probably one of the happiest, most healthy and functional family dynamics I’ve ever been exposed to on a semi-regularly basis (okay… semi-regular as in once a year for many, many hours at a time). The kids all keep in touch with their parents. They have a loving sibling relationship with one another and always speak favorably about each other. And they are all supportive of their parents.

As I was chatting with another aunt during lunch today, she was observing how helpful all three daughters (and even one of the daughters’ husbands) were, as they seemed to have something like an assembly line of “getting shit done” going: one daughter was gathering plates and silverware that were no longer being used, another was scraping off food scraps into a bin and arranging them into the dishwasher, and the third was wiping down the kitchen island and rearranging napkins, plates, and desserts into their places. This was all while their parents were consolidating food into smaller containers and organizing other snacks for guests. This aunt, who has two sons, told me that though she was happy her oldest was close and would be here when she hosted all of us over tomorrow on Boxing Day, she was still sad her youngest son in London plus his daughter could not be there). Because not only would that mean she could see both of them, but she’d have an extra set of hands to help since she’s getting older and more tired. I reassured her and told her I’d be happy to help — I don’t really look at it as “work” since it’s easier when more people pitch in.

This aunt kept peering over at her three nieces at work in the kitchen. “It’s just always so nice when all the kids are home. It’s more lively and fun, and they can help out with everything, as well!” She paused for a moment, then glanced over at Chris’s brother, who has infamously been known in the family to not really help out… with much at all, anywhere, and be totally oblivious to this fact (and perhaps even worse, not care). And then she added while continuing to look at him: “Well, it’s happy when most of the kids help out.”

That’s the thing about family: you can love them to bits, but they can truly annoy the fuck out of you regarding how unaware they are of their own deficiencies that negatively impact everyone around them. But I suppose that’s what family is all about: loving your family, blood-related or chosen, despite their imperfections… and maybe even sometimes because of their imperfections. In these cases, at least it provides some comic relief.

The first time we were able to observe Kaia without her knowing was at her first daycare/school, where we had in-class camera access throughout the school day. It was interesting to have that view into how she acts not just with other adults/figures of authority without us there, but also how she mingled with other children of various ages.

When I’m staying at Chris’s parents’ home, there are many times I’ve observed her when she hasn’t been aware. The easiest times are when she’s in the backyard, frolicking, running, and playing with Chris’s mom. She thinks I’m in the kitchen/lounge area cooking or doing work on my computer. And while I am usually doing those things, I often stop and just watch what she’s doing and how they interact with each other.

In the yard, they do things that you’d expect: they’re watering plants, picking up fallen leaves or twigs. Kaia is asking about flowers, and her Suma is quizzing her on colors and shapes. She’s also educating her on types of plants and what different leaves look like. I can hear them through the window discuss the maple leaves falling from their tree, and Kaia is giggling hysterically as she gathers a handful of fresh green maple leaves and starts throwing them about, causing Suma to get flustered and lightly scold her and tell her not to make too much of a mess. When Kaia gets bored of the flora education, she moves on and brings out her Bluey ball and demands that Suma kick the ball. When Suma doesn’t kick the ball hard enough or the “right way,” then Kaia gets mad and demands that she do it again and again and again… until it meets her “standard.”

I was watching them this morning, and I just felt this overwhelming feeling of happiness. I kept staring out at the garden, smiling at them. They were completely oblivious that they were being watched. It was almost like my heart was swelling to see how happy Kaia is to be spending time with her paternal grandma. The concept of “mudita” strikes again. She loves this house, the seemingly endless rooms, the stairs she can run up and down, the large bathrooms and the enormous space compared to our two-bed, two-bathroom Manhattan apartment. She loves seeing her Suma and Topa every day and knowing they will be there. Out of nowhere, she started yelling today, “Suma, I like your house! I LOVE YOUR HOUSE! I LOVE THIS HOUSE!”

I didn’t know that my heart could ever expand as much as it has being a mother. But I feel like it still hasn’t stopped expanding just yet. It feels like there is more love for her and our family to come.