I really need to get better at writing these blogs regularly… I am like 5 books behind on these blogs! All of these new fall TV series are taking up my blogging time! Revenge, The New Girl, Two Broke Girls, The Secret Circle…. just to name a few. WOOPSIES. But anyways, this book titled “We The Animals” is about three brothers who are half Puerto Rican growing up in a dysfunctional household in Brooklyn, where they learn that no matter what family always comes first. Their mother works the night shift at a brewery and their father is a night guard, which means they are often left to their own devices. When they are young the three brothers are inseparable, they even call themselves the 3 musketeers! As they get older one of the sons becomes the favorite – the prodigal son if you will, because he is the only one who makes good grades and has the potential to make something of his life. However, we later learn that this same brothers is gay, which causes a lot of tension within his family. This book chronicles the good times and the bad times that a family has, as well as the love and hate within a family, the jealousy between siblings, and the parents relationship. When I think of growing up in my household, I realize how lucky I was – and still am to have such a stable family. I remember going on a trip to Europe with a group of people my age and sharing stories about what are families and lives back home were like. I sat their listening to all of these people tell me about how their parents are divorced, alcoholics or absent from their lives. When I started talking about my family, one of the girls (who is now one of my really good friends) turned to me and said.. “Wow, you’re family is like perfect.” And at that moment, I remember thinking how good I had it. In reading this book, so many childhood memories flashed through my mind. For instance, our family camping trip to Canada where my mom almost burned down the whole forest, our canoeing trip, our indian nick names, pitching with my dad in the back yard, pretending to fall asleep downstairs on the couch so that my dad would carry me to my bed, or sneaking into my parents room at night and falling asleep on the floor while holding my mothers hand. Even simply sitting around the table every day for dinner telling each other about our days, or going to church with my mom, or my parents tucking me in to bed every single night saying “good night, I love you, I’m proud of you.” I miss those bedtimes stories my dad used to read to me every single night, and my mom reading my sister and I The Harry Potter books when they first came out. And the time my dad dressed up like Santa Clause and drove me to school with the windows down yelling “Ho ho ho Merry Christmas!” (I thought he was the coolest dad in that moment, no joke) And the time my first dog, Chacho pooped on my dads rollerblade always brings a smile to my face. We never realize the good times are happening when they are happening. We always look back on the past and think, “those were the good ole days.” Yes, they were.. but so is today and tomorrow and NOW. These are the days. These are the nights. These are the moments. So, appreciate them while they are happening and remember them fondly once they have passed, but don’t get so nostalgic for the past that you forget to live in the present. We have great memories with our families, but we also have hardships and struggles and fighting. Some families have larger issues than others, some have more heartbreak, but nonetheless all families have their fair share of drama. Growing up in my family, I always felt sheltered, confined, and controlled. My sister and I had a strict regiment to follow, practice piano, practice pitching, do your homework, make sure your room is clean, clean the kitchen, wash the dogs.. all tasks must be completed if you want to hang out with your friends. Makes for a dreadful saturday. All of my friends, and yes I mean ALL, have commented at one time or another on how my parents are too strict. If we forgot to turn our bedroom lights off we had to go stand in the corner. My sister and I spent a lot of time making faces at each other in that corner when we were younger! Then of course there was the occasional spanking, grounding, and going to bed without dinner punishments as well. With my parents regulating what seemed like every aspect of our lives, naturally my sister and I rebelled as much as we possibly could. Sneaking out of the house to meet friends, lying, partying, drinking, and doing many other things that I will not mention! I remember thinking so many times, “if only I could just run away… I’d be free.” Of course, I never ran away but I did threaten my parents one time. I stormed into the kitchen with my back pack frantically packing in some food. “I’m running away!” I screamed. (I guess I didn’t quite understand the concept that when you run away you aren’t supposed to tell anyone)… “Where are you going?” My parents asked. “Away from here!” I shrieked. “Taylor, don’t you know how sad we would be if you ran away?” My parents asked. I made it down the block before I turned back around, stormed into the house, ran upstairs, slammed my door and collapsed on to my bed thinking I would be chained to them forever. Of course, there are good and bad things about growing up in a strict household. Now, looking back on it I realize it wasn’t nearly as bad as it seemed at the time and my parents were only raising me and my sister the best way they knew how. They were strict because they wanted to keep us safe, because they love us. (they are fantastic parents by the way). Through the good times.. and the bad, there is no one who will take care of you, no one who will love you, as much as your family will. This is a lesson I have learned over time. Even though we get on each others nerves, we hurt each other, and disappoint each other…. none of those things comes close to the amount of love we have for each other. The love of my family is sometimes, the only thing that keeps me going.
Xo.
Taylor Jordan
Life Scribbles 