An Ode to my Baby Brother

Who is that dashing young man who looks like he belongs in a JC Penney ad? That, ladies and gentlemen, is my fabulous little brother.

He may or may not need a little cheering up today, and I want him to know how much I love him, so I feel that public humiliation via blog post is the appropriate course of action.

Baby Bro is one talented fellow. He plays the viola with a passion that you can see, hear, and feel. You know those people who become part of the instrument when they play? The people who exude a sound that says more than written words? Yeah, he's one of them. Plus he dabbles in violin, piano, oboe, and guitar, and every once in a while tries his hand at arrangement. He’s also president of his chapter of Modern Music Masters, an honor society for musicians.

But don’t confuse him with a dork who only knows what the music teacher hands him. Homeboy took my love for “Jude Love and a Semester Abroad” and ran with, developing into something of a music junkie. He collects records (yeah, real records) new and old, goes to concerts more often than I can count, and knows the perfect song or artist for any mood.

The kid is also a fantastic writer, wielding both the pen and the keyboard to craft words into art. Like any good angsty teen, he writes emo poetry deeper than his chocolate brown eyes, but he can also make an essay about the Teapot Dome Scandal more exciting that Mission: Impossible III.

So he’s good at the artsy subjects, right? Of course. He excels at English and rocks the socks off of Social Studies. He writes for the school paper and he’s currently obsessing over Model UN. Cool, for sure. A boy after my own heart.

And that’s where it ends, right? Artsy people don’t excel at math and science, right? WRONG. He kicks butt in every class. Calculus? No problem. Double duty with AP Chem and AP Physics? Didn’t even break a sweat. Okay, so he knows how to study. He can memorize and apply all of those rules that have always eluded me. I guess if you try hard enough, most people can.

But why stop there? Why only be a science geek in the classroom when you can do it in competition too? So he’s been on the Science Olympiad team for years, making things bubble and fly and multiply for the judges. It’s actually kind of exciting, if you’re into that. You know what else is exciting? Taking summer classes at the Dolan DNA Center (Watson and Crick, anyone?) just for fun. Or then hopping across Cold Spring Harbor and spending a summer doing research trying to find the genetic roots of Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s. And then compiling your data and presenting it. And then competing at the International Science and Engineering Fair.

So anything academic he touches turns to gold. Fine. Some people are like that. But those people have no friends because they are socially awkward and tape their glasses and wear pocket protectors. Alas, my brother is as charismatic as they come. If he’s not out playing manhunt, he’s having a movie night, or he’s cooking with his absolutely adorable girlfriend.

So he must be conceited. With all of that going on in his life, he must be too busy thinking about how awesome he is to care about anything else. And yet, somehow he finds a way. Yes, he does act like a 17 year old boy, usually every morning between the hours of 6 and 7 am, as can be confirmed by our mother. But when he’s not doing that, he’s politically active, sticking his nose in the business of practically every cause. He’s environmentally conscious, gathering up the waste paper that his school doesn’t recycle and doing it for them. And he knows more about global goings on than your average Political Science student.

And, as evidenced by the above photo, he’s not ugly.

Is there anything this kid doesn’t do? Yeah, he’s not so hot when it comes to gym class. Le sigh, I guess you can’t have everything.

The moral of the story is that I absolutely love my brother. He never ceases to amaze me. People always tell me that he looks up to me. What I don’t think he realizes is that I often look up to him. It’s hard being related to someone so perfect, and I wouldn’t be surprised if someone alerted the authorities if they heard us fighting. But I don’t think I would change it for anything. My brother is my role model, my best friend, and my partner in crime. And I just want him to know.

Love Your Body, Ladies!

Today is the National Organization for Women's 12th Annual Love Your Body Day!  According to NOW's website, "Print ads and television commercials reduce us to body parts -- lips, legs, breasts -- airbrushed and touched up to meet impossible standards. TV shows tell women and teenage girls that cosmetic surgery is good for self-esteem. Is it any wonder that 80% of U.S. women are dissatisfied with their appearance?"

I usually hate my body.  I hate my nose; I think it's too bulbous.  My shoulders are too wide.  My arms are too flabby.  My boobs are too big.   My tummy sticks out too much.  I have love handles.  I have stretch marks.  My thighs more than touch.  I'm too hairy.  I hate my body.  Why?  Because someone told me that big noses, wide shoulders, flabby arms, shirts that don't fit, paunches, spare tires, uneven skin tone, thick thighs, and body hair aren't pretty.

But today, I love my body.  Today I choose to believe the random strangers, the ex boyfriends, and my best friend's sister-in-law's best friend: the people who told me that I am beautiful.  Because when it comes down to it, I am.  I love me and it doesn't matter that Ralph Lauren doesn't.

I admit that I'm about to go put on pants that make me look thinner, a black shirt that hides my bulge, tall red heels, and a fair amount of makeup.  But I understand why, and I know that with or without all of that I love me, I am proud of me, and I love my body!

So, ladies, take some time to love your body today.  And gentlemen, tell a girl in your life that you think she's beautiful.  It makes all the difference.