Back in 2020, I became a live-in nanny & moved in with a family living in a neighborhood that I liked to call:
The Suburbs on Crack
I imagine the developers all got together over a cup of coffee one day, sat down, & said to each other, “Hey, I’m bored.. and we’ve got all this land. Wanna play a game & see how many houses we can fit on it?” And they figured out how many houses they could fit on it & built accordingly. I‘m not lying when I say, I think it was the same 3 household models, alternated, repeated, & plopped right on top of each other. It was Covid times, yet the houses were following the 6ft rule worse than the people. I’m 5’3” (and ¾ 😉) & my wingspan could nearly stretch between the houses. I felt like I was in a mirage every time I walked into a neighbor’s home, because shell-wise, it was the same exact house; but human & décor-wise, it was an entirely new experience. Like identical twins wearing different dresses. If you’ve seen the real life version of Cat in the Hat (starring Mike Meyers & Paris Hilton), it felt almost exactly like taking a step into their neighborhood would. Like you’ve transplanted yourself into this dream state, Truman Show level universe. The Universe of Suburbia! Okay, I’m done. Officially tapping out of the suburban bubble quips. I was a nanny & knew a bunch of the kids in the neighborhood. That’s all that needed to be said…
One day, I was watching a group of about 10 kids down by the creek, helping them build a bridge. A group of mini engineers, these kids were. They laid the rocks in the sand to create a firm foundation for the bridge, then piled on the first layer of sticks to start the structure, followed by some more sticks, sealed together with mud. Now, comes my part. *cracks knuckles*. I was there for two reasons & two reasons only that day:
1. To be a fun chaperone that prevented any ER visits &
2. To bring the flare.
And while I’m still not positive why my 20 year-old self was trusted with the “authority figure” badge to oversee 10 kids at a time, I held that badge tightly to my kid heart inside of my adult chest. Safety was in check and all that was left to do was bring on the flare. And that I brought. Now, I may know nothing about infrastructure, architecture, or building my house upon rock, but when it came to making the bridge look the part, I was their girl. I padded that thing so meticulously with the finest moss I could find to guarantee any passerby the most leisurely, cushioned walk of their lifetime. Maybe even a frolic if you were feeling fancy (but don’t get too carried away. Remember it’s just sticks & rocks down there). I added flowers & foliage along the sides. It was the type of 3-foot long, creek bridge that you’d look twice at if you passed her on the street. What can I say though? I was a freelance bridge designer, hired for my artistry — and my prices (free). In the midst of the elite bridge building (& side job of tomfoolery) going on, a 9 year-old kid went to address me by my street name — “Miss Delaney”. And as he called out my name, something unintentional, yet oddly fitting came out instead:
“MiscDelaneyous”
The other kids laughed at the mispronunciation. He got embarrassed for a sec. We moved on & went about our business. It was a blip in the day. A pencil mark in the year. A half of an atom on the never-ending timeline of life. But little did that kid know, on that half of an atom on the never-ending timeline of life, he just created my brand. Not internally or innately, of course. Who I am was most definitely already there. I would never fault someone else, let alone a child, for causing this collection of chaos. But someway, somehow he accidentally summed me up.
Miscellaneous: “of various types or from different sources.”
Delaney: “me.”
What a mini-genius that boy didn’t know he was that day. Or any day, really. Smart kid. Good-hearted kid. I hope he’s flourishing in life right now.
So here I am today, using a name that started as a slip-up yet somehow perfectly encapsulated me, as my website name. Random. All over the place. Sandwich (sandwiches are great. And this one has my name in the middle). Eclectic. Better because of mistakes. I didn’t know what to name it anyways. If it were up to me to make a decision like that it’d either never get done or my website would be named “website”. So, here begins the era of MiscDelaneyous. There will be no sense of cohesion or connectedness from one post to another, other than me being the chick writing them. There is no set intention in making this website other than me needing to store my thoughts in a more organized, acceptable manner. Basically what I’m saying is that this is completely & totally a me-thing. Just a place to put my stream of consciousness. But you’re more than welcome to read along.
Now, I’d like to make a toast! A toast to the randomness! A toast to the suburbs! A toast to that kid that inadvertently gave me a sense of self-revelation! A toast to the creek bridges! A toast to all of the slip-ups & screw-ups of all shapes & sizes that led us to where we are today! A toast to it all. Cheers to MiscDelaneyous! Or whatever your version of it is.