… then Tyler is the poster-child for marital success.

“God is stronger than war.”
- Micah Parsons, age 4

Micah: Knock knock!

Annie: Who’s there?

Micah: Cup!

Annie: Cup who?

Micah: Cup that meets the water!

This is my nephew Micah. He is 4. He is one of my favorite humans on the planet, tied only with his little brother Tyler.

Micah has always been advanced when it comes to speech – he has a large vocabulary, and is not afraid to use it. Recently, during a game of Candyland, he lectured my mom about her “options.” He has been known to pick up and then repeat phrases that he probably never should have heard, such as:

“That cat crapped on me.”

“Good Lord!”

And my personal favorite:
“Screw you, Jessie!” Said with much enthusiasm and gusto.

Lately, due to some unknown source of inspiration, Micah has been bringing back a great expression.

Micah, do you like trains?
“I sure do!”

Micah, are you excited for school?
“I sure am!”

Micah, aren’t these cookies delicious?
“They sure are!”

An earnest and ardent affirmation. I love the way that Micah embraces life wholeheartedly, and expresses his unbridled excitement. I want to be more like him.

I sure do.

I worry. I worry about my bank account and my weight and my future. I worry that I am on the wrong track. I worry about gas prices and war and skin cancer. I worry about my lack of health insurance. I worry that I am never going to have the opportunities that I hope for. I worry about the fact that I am building nary a family nor a resume nor a nest egg.

But then I remember that everyone in my family is safe and healthy. I have been given the opportunity to chase a dream – something that not everyone has. I spend my free time going on walks with two working legs, and cooking delicious food, and thinking big, luxurious thoughts. Somehow, every month, I am able to pay my bills (almost) on time. I have a lot of shoes and a lot of clothes and a whole lot of washcloths. And I have a hope and a future.

So guess what, Tuesday? You can’t get me down.

I am back from illustrious Overland Park, KS, where I spent Memorial Day weekend. Currently, there is a lot to worry about. And there is a lot to be thankful for.

Today, my mom and I took Micah and Tyler to Union Station in downtown Kansas City to see their favorite thing: TRAINS! After looking at the huge, elaborate model train display, and walking across the Link to Crown Center to color in the Crayola Store, and then back to eat a greasy lunch in the diner, it was time for the main event: to ride the kid-size train around the huge Christmas tree.

Micah abruptly decided that he did not want to ride the train, leaving little Tyler with a choice. “Do you want to ride the train, even though Micah isn’t going?”

“Yeah!” he said, with his sweet little smile.

But as soon as he climbed into the caboose, his attitude shifted slightly. Without his big brother by his side, he realized that it was a little bit scarier than he thought.

His eyes were wide, and a little bit frightened. I stepped inside the track and walked beside him as the train went around the tree one, two, three, four times. He didn’t say much, didn’t express much, except for the times that we passed Grandmom and Micah – then he would wave enthusiastically.

Finally, the train stopped, and we freaked out on Tyler’s behalf. “Tyler, you were so brave! You rode the train all by yourself! You’re such a big boy!”

And indeed. He sure was proud of himself.

In a similar, albeit less-cute way, I’m experiencing a small victory of my own. As many of you know, I left Seattle in September with the intention of moving to Nashville because I want to write songs. Now, to be perfectly honest, I didn’t have much to base this decision on; I only started writing in 2005, and it’s not like I was an instant hit-maker. Mostly, I was writing only scraps of songs, and they were largely very lame.

Still, I knew that this is something that I wanted to pursue. Somewhere deep down, I believed that I might be capable of being a good writer. So in a very bold, gutsy, “sell the farm” kind of way, I decided to transplant myself to the very place where my favorite songs were coming from. Time will tell if any musical good will come of this.

As I have traveled hither and thither this fall, I have written a lot of songs. Most of them aren’t worth sharing. But this past Saturday, on a plane from Boston to Charlotte, I cranked out a song that I can honestly say is good. It’s GOOD. I really think so. As my own worst critic, I am so encouraged to know that I am capable of writing something that isn’t entirely a sorry excuse.

And regardless of anyone else’s approval or accolades, I know in my heart that I am making a good decision in moving to Nashville.

I arrived back in Kansas City last night to find my nephews, Micah and Tyler, spending the night at my parent’s. SLEEPOVER! I know that I say this all the time, but there is nothing that brings me more joy than spending time with those little nuggets.

Late in the evening, Tyler, who is 2 1/2, stubbed his toe. His face was this heartbreaking mix of shock and pain, because can you imagine? Stubbing your toe for the first time? And the unbelievable amount of agony that occurs? He was traumatized.

To curtail the tears and take his mind off of his aching toe, I quickly lied down on the floor with him and said, “Tyler, wanna see MY owie?” I rolled up my jeans to show him my bruised and scabbed knee. He, being the sweetest child alive, quickly said, “Don’t worry, I will kiss it.”

Now, picture this. He and I are lying side-by-side on the living room floor, my pant leg is rolled up past my knee – and my mom walks over, manhandles my calf, and bends it back over my body toward Tyler’s waiting lips. I am resistantly folded in half, because no, I’m sorry, my body does not willingly bend that way. I cry out in discomfort, but Tyler is eager to kiss my knee, so Mom pushes harder. I yowl, she pushes, he waits with his little lips puckered, and the human angle becomes smaller and smaller and smaller.

Finally, his lips connect with my knee.

And he declares, “Hmmm, it’s kind of furry.”

Driving flies past when you have a purpose. Yesterday, my purpose was to get from Nashville to Kansas City in time for my nephew Micah’s 4th birthday party.

I cannot believe that he is 4. I cannot believe that it has been 4 years since the cold night when I stood on the sidewalk outside the Guild Theater in Seattle and listened to a message from my mom, telling me that he was here. The introduction of Micah and Tyler into the Parsons family has set my heart on a carnival ride, and made me aware of just how much love I am capable of.

If I love my nephews this much, how much more will I love my own children? There is no way to comprehend it.

Micah and Tyler are obsessed with Thomas the Tank Engine. Now, that’s all well and good… if you like pansy trains with British accents. I knew that Micah would be receiving plenty of Thomas paraphernalia from others, and I wanted to get him something flashy, something bold, something rad. And when I found a REMOTE CONTROL TARANTULA… well…

Micah’s Tarantula from Annie Parsons on Vimeo.

The birthday boy with his Auntie Rah Rah:

Then Micah got the camera and snapped a shot:

And of course, these boys could only come from two majestic human beings:
It is good to be a part of the Parsons family. Right, Micah and Tyler? You’ll learn…

After a long-stretch of time with my nephews, Jeremy and Ashley arrived home tonight to relieve me of childcare duties. I am now excused from monitoring bowel movements (“I’m DUUHHH-un!”), re-telling the story of “The Lion King” every hour, receiving already-chewed gum into the palm of my hand, and being presented with a special gift from Micah: a remarkably large piece of dried skin that he peeled off of his top lip.

I am free to go about my business – which, let’s be honest, consists of updating my Facebook profile and checking the personal ads on Craigslist (Seattle, Kansas City, AND Nashville). Kansas City is a restful place for me… and by “restful,” I mean a virtual flatline. You would think that all of this free time would result in me being ultra-productive; not so. Not knowing many people aside from my family results in an over-eating, under-exercising, YouTube-scouring numbing of my mind. Being with Micah and Tyler was the most eventful and stimulating occasion I could have hoped for.

They are truly marvelous little guys, and not just because they’re my nephews. I’ve hung around enough kids to know that Micah and Tyler are exceptionally well-behaved, well-mannered, good natured boys. They are not antagonistic. They play extremely well together, and share their toys. Micah is constantly coming up with cute little spontaneous compliments (“I LOVE your shirt, Annie!”), and Tyler is so polite (“Thank you for my pizza!”). I believe this is a testament to Jeremy and Ashley’s parenting; they have done an amazing job with these guys. They have turned out to be my favorite humans on the planet.

Today, while playing with their trains, Micah brought his little engine up to Tyler’s.

“What’s the matter, Thomas?” Micah asked the little train.

And in his tiny lisp, Tyler responded, “I’m not the matter – I’m just nice.”

And it’s true: Micah and Tyler are “not the matter” – they’re “just nice.” They are innocent and carefree, living life day-to-day and trusting that they will be provided for. They do not worry. They do not vie for attention or favor. They’re just nice.

Don’t lose that. Keep being your extraordinary selves – and just like it’s happening now, everyone who meets you will fall in love with you. The world needs you, Micah and Tyler – my best boys.

[Overland Park, KS - 92 degrees outside. Annie, Micah, and Tyler in 1990 Honda Accord; A at wheel, M & T in matching side-by-side car seats on back seat. Cookie crumbs and juice boxes litter floorboards; car reeks of residual dog vomit. Vehicle idling at stoplight, next to large grey Buick.]

Micah: Whoa.

Annie: What?

Micah: That is a terrible nose.

[A turns her head to the right to see Old Woman in Buick: cropped silver hair, large sunglasses, elephantine schnoz.]

Annie: [stifling laugher] Micah, that’s not very nice.

Micah: [eyes wide, mouth agape] But… look… it’s huge.

[A stares straight ahead, laughter tugging at corners of her mouth, mulling over proper response. Knows she must simultaneously validate M's observation, as well as use situation to teach about manners and benevolence.]

Annie: You’re right. It is a huge nose. But isn’t it great that God gave her a nose to smell with? And how else would she keep those sunglasses on her face?

[Silence.]

Annie: You can notice that she has a big nose, and think it in your head. But it’s never nice to tell someone that they have a big nose – it might hurt their feelings.

[Silence.]

Micah: [solemnly] Good thing the window was up.

Tyler: [grinning] Good fing!

[And scene.]

*May be acted out in the comfort of your own living room.