sister, sister

It is easy to write about how I have the best sister in the world. Everyone probably thinks their sister is the best, but I know mine is.

Once upon a time, there was an older sister who probably wished that I wasn’t around. I followed her, I stole her Judy Blume books, I tried to be her.

I always knew my sister was bad-ass, but when some girls were bugging me in middle school and she showed up in her Camaro after school and walked confidently through the hallways to collect me, everyone else knew it too. She might be able to mess with me at home when there were no other witnesses, but no one was going to actually mess with her little sister. That put an end to the “bullying”.

When I went away to school, far, far, away from home, my sister gave me some great advice that I didn’t follow. She told me to become involved, to take advantage of everything my huge college had to offer. I didn’t follow her advice, but it meant enough to me that I thought about it and was kind of sad that I didn’t live up to her expectations.

One year, when I was just out of school and finally making some money, I bought a lot of extravagant gifts for my family for Christmas. She protested and I was angry. This may be the only time that I can actually do this…let me enjoy it, I said. I was tired of her always being the right and good and straight one. If she knew how much I would end up owing her, she might have kept quiet about the gifts.

Around that same time, her best friend had had her first child. We went to see her and the family and oohed and aahed over her. I asked her when she though she would get married and have kids. She had been living with the same guy, someone she had been friends with since high school and whom we assumed she would marry. She expressed concern that her children wouldn’t have the same joy as her friend’s offspring since she and her boyfriend were both semi-serious/stoic people. And she expressed concern that she didn’t have the same family unit surrounding her. She thought her baby would end up being a sourpuss… No problem, I told her. As soon as you get married and have a baby–I will move back home. I know I will be an awesome aunt.

Fast forward to me announcing my pregnancy before she and my brother-in-law had made a baby. She probably wanted to strangle me. I know she was dubious as to how I was going to carry out the pregnancy on my own and when I announced I was having twins, let’s just say she was less than ecstatic.

But then life happened. So as the good and dutiful sister she was, she stepped up to the plate regardless of her feelings. And without my sister’s support I wouldn’t be here. Despite anything that she may have thought about how I ended up where I was in life, she was the one who was there for me. She was the awesome aunt. I get to play the awesome aunt role now–9 years into getting my life under control–but she has been there for me every step of the way.

I moved back to New York and moved five minutes away from her and she has never once complained about being the second-in-command. She is my emergency contact, she has been my care provider, she has been my nurse, my supervisor, and my best friend. Without her, I would be nowhere. My kids would be nowhere. She is the reason we are here. She is the reason we’ve made it. No one is better than she.

I will write more about my dear sister; this is just an introduction to the woman who has made my adventures in single mommyhood possible. Without her, I would flounder.


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