07.07.04

So I�m sitting here at work, daydreaming about sunshine and cool water and what a glorious combination that can be. I can�t believe that it was just yesterday that I was sitting on the boat working on my tan (and really only succeeding in adding a few freckles) and talking about how I was dreading the thought of going back to work. Sigh.

There are a few reminders of the fabulous weekend that we had, however, other than the freckles. For one thing, I�ve got that weird sensation that I�m still on the boat thing going (the monitor is actually swaying a little). Also, I�m just the slightest bit sunburned around my neck and shoulders. (I learned a long time ago that despite my insistance that my pale skin can be baked into submission, second degree sunburns on the first or second days of vacations kind of put a damper on things. No one wants to hang out with the girl who chants �ow, ow, ow� with every step she takes.) And finally, my �wakeboarding muscles� are killing me. Every year now for the past few years I�ve insisted I�m too old for it, but I still have to master jumping that wake, dammit! (I�ll leave the �tantrums� to my little brother. Showoff.)

As usual, being at the Lake was powerfully good for me. I think, aside from being with the ones I love, my favorite part of the trip was my early morning swims in the lake. I'd get up at sunrise before anyone else, put on my suit (loving not having to feel self-concious), and dive into the cool water. I loved the way the water wrapped around my body as I swam. After I started to warm up after the first ten minutes or so, diving down deep where the water was colder felt so good. Just knowing that there were no obstacles to run into was exhilerating.

I usually swam for about a half-hour or so. Far enough out to feel alone, but not isolated. There was this rock that stuck out all by itself that I would swim to. I'd sit and watch the sun rise over the red cliffs, then dive back in and swim back just as everyone was waking up. It was awesome.

It was also a really good opportunity to spend time with my family. The Annual Lake Powell trips are usually hosted by the family of my stepmom. I do love her family, especially her parents who I have officially adopted as my very own grandparents, but since I was almost 17 when my dad got remarried, my siblings and I will always kind of feel like the �new kids.� Maybe because of that, I have developed the most incredible bond with my brother and sister in the past few years. We are all seriously best friends. It is awesome. I guess it�s just so cool to grow up after years of fighting and name-calling and realize that you happened to get lucky enough to actually like the family you got stuck with.

I could go on with the sibling love, but I�ll save that for another entry. (Yay for you.)

Anyway, in other related news (�related�, heh), my little brother (from my mom�s second marriage) will be coming out to stay with us for a week. This was my plan and I�m glad he was able to come. My little bro has been a source of distress for me for quite some time. See, my mother, who I love with all my heart, just shouldn�t have had a fourth child. She just wasn�t emotionally or mentally up for the task. And especially since my little brother has some special needs (we�ll call him �Bo� because that was going to be his name until I talked some sense into my mother and reminded her that we aren�t, actually, from Hazard county, nor do we live on the set of Days of Our Lives). My mom loves him, but she just doesn�t have the patience for him. Not to mention that her own life is usually in so much turmoil that she can hardly take care of herself (did I mention that she is gearing up to leave husband number 4??).

Bo is thirteen (this month) and is overweight. He has been diagnosed with ADD (eh, who hasn�t?) and a mild form of Turetts (just the fidgety ticks, not the stream of obscenities that is portrayed in the movies). He needs love and lots of patience. He got a mom who bribes him with food and sedentary rewards (video games, legos, TV) but then criticizes him openly for being overweight. Not a healthy situation.

And then there is me.

Fifteen years older, I have been out of the house for the majority of his life. I will be perfectly honest and admit I have used this fact to justify looking the other way when it comes to Bo for years. I�m the fun sister that pops in around the holidays for a few days and then takes off again. And I can�t help that us three siblings from my mom�s first marriage are so much closer. But it makes me sad to think that he is getting old enough to notice that, and I don�t want him to feel left out. So I�m glad that I�m finally in a position to have a home of my own to bring him into, if only for a short time.

It breaks my heart to hear my mom tell me stories of how he has come home from school crying because of the teasing, knowing that the things my mom will say to �motivate� him to lose weight isn�t much better. I want him to know that he is good enough and that I�m here for him no matter what. I know that these few days won�t fix everything, but I just want him to know that he is loved for who he is.

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