Eleanor Tiernan: When your nephew is in Australia, it makes it harder to bond with him
Eleanor Tiernan
I”ve never been much of a one for relationship admin. I forget people’s birthdays. I’ve never organised a surprise party for anyone and contrary to the gender stereotype, I’ll be the one buying last-minute cards and flowers in a petrol station. Lately, however, there has been a family development that has meant that my lack of skills in this arena is kicking me in the ass.
Jack, my one and only niece/nephew, was born last June. He was two months premature. In the videos, my brother sent he looked so scrawny as to be barely human. His whole body seemed to shake any time he wasn’t wrapped tightly in swaddling. The doctors performed what they called a “startle test” where, while he was placed on a counter, let him fall back momentarily to assess how good his reflexes were. To my eyes it looked unnecessarily cruel but he said it was normal where he was. Anyway, I’d never seen any creature so in need of protection before. The only problem was that he was in Australia.
Normally in a new relationship, I prefer to leave most of the admin burden with the other person (I bring other skills to the party like for example spatial awareness). However in this case, even I can see that’s not going to work. It’s not realistic to expect a baby who has only had one birthday (where he had quite a bit going on) to remember anyone else’s. He can’t write an email. He can’t find out what my favourite brand of cupcake is and arrange a parcel of them to be sent to me. Whether or not this little guy and I get along is all down to me. My game is going to have to step up a notch.
And so my charm offensive began. I’ve ordered babygros from Australian stores and had them sent to him (I chose ones I’d wear myself if only they came in my size). I’ve handwritten letters. I’ve sung Blaa Blaa black sheep down the phone during our Facetime chats. Surely this would be enough to make him warm to his Auntie El?
What I expected was to see a gradual change in his expression when I’d appear on the screen? A slow smile spreading across his face? My brother and his wife say Jack’s been happy to see me but I’m sure they’re just saying that to be polite. However, the boy’s face remains at best quizzical but more often angry. How frustrating. This bonding thing is hard.
And then there’s the time difference. It means that the calls from that part of the world always seem to come through when I’m working or socialising. Declining a call from an adult is one thing but from a baby? The guilt is unbearable. What kind of person lets what is now a cuddly bundle of dimples down so cruelly? A monster. It’s enough to make you angry with him for calling you in the first place.
My Dad has gotten it sussed apparently though. When the good people of Australia got vaccinated in sufficient numbers that the restrictions on entering the country could be safely dropped my folks applied for visas immediately. Eventually, in February, they got off and once they landed Dad immediately got to work. He had cleverly devised a bespoke peek-a-boo game that he practised with Jack over again in person. He loved it apparently.
And now that they are back home in Ireland, my Dad can play the game over Facetime with him. There are giggles galore coming through the phone to him which I guess is proof of concept at least. Now he’s getting loads of smiles out of the little fella and isn’t shy about telling us about it. Making me sick.
Still early days though. Dad might be the favourite at the moment but there’s a long road ahead. Over the next few decades, I’ll have ample opportunity to bump the old man from the top spot. Oh, the exciting things I’m going to show this child. Full moon parties in Thailand. Weekends in Vegas. Warehouse parties in Brooklyn. That sort of thing anyway. Jack has no idea what’s in store for him.
CONNECT WITH US TODAY
Be the first to know the latest news and updates
