I’m in a major funk right now. My sister is moving away for greener pastures…well, actually, the desert. I’m SO going to miss her. Thinking about it makes me ill.
I’m also going to miss my Kirsten Kuddles and the little waddle that makes my insides smile.
How do you make it through life without a sister? Who do you call when a girl in school picked on you for wearing neon, or when a boyfriend spread untrue rumors about you? Who would be there to shovel out pounds of suds when you used shampoo—instead of dishwashing soap? And, who will be there to sit with you when something awful happens?
My parent’s marriage, although long gone, did one great thing in this world. It created a bond amongst 3 women that will never waiver. My sisters are the only other people in this world that truly know what I’ve been through. They’ve lived it.
Having a sister is like having a best friend you can’t get rid of. You know whatever you do, they’ll still be there.
– Amy Li
To my sister Gee:
A younger sister is someone to use as a guinea-pig in trying sledges and experimental go-carts. Someone to send on messages to Mum. But someone who needs you - who comes to you with bumped heads, grazed knees, tales of persecution. Someone who trusts you to defend her. Someone who thinks you know the answers to almost everything.
– Pam Brown
Gee is a reflection of myself. Through her, I see the best of me. Common sense, perserverance, and loyalty. But, she also brings things that I wish I had. I wish I had her courage and her spunk. She’s my 9am java boost. She energizes me and makes me believe I can climb mountains—in stilettos. Although the youngest, she is our muscle.
To my sister Kris:
Our siblings push buttons that cast us in roles we felt sure we had let go of long ago - the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the avoider…. It doesn’t seem to matter how much time has elapsed or how far we’ve traveled.
– Jane Mersky Leder
Kristina challenges me in so many ways; she challenges me to become more patient, more loving, and always keeps me in check. She’s my 11am multi-vitamin that keeps me strong and grounded. Our bond has been tested so many times, and gets stronger with each day. Kris holds the softest spot in my heart. She is our hotline.
I’m glad to have my sisters back by my side. The emptiness I felt when we were apart was a feeling I would rather not revisit. When I’m with them, we don’t have to do anything but just be. Just being is enough for me.
The only thing that I wish for my daughter, but ache inside at the possibility that I may never be able to give it to her, is the love of a sister. Having a sister means you’ll always have a friend.
Sisters annoy, interfere, criticize. Indulge in monumental sulks, in huffs, in snide remarks. Borrow. Break. Monopolize the bathroom. Are always underfoot. But if catastrophe should strike, sisters are there. Defending you against all comers.
– Pam Brown
Someone once told me that I had a million expressions. Now that I review Ella’s holiday shoot, I’m reminded just how much she’s like me.
Go to "site"
Click on "clients"
Password "ella"
I can’t leave voicemail messages, because I sound like a dork when I do. I fumble, break into a cold sweat, end up mumbling the same sentence over and over again, and then I do a fine imitation of a valley girl on steroids (complete with about 40-some "likes" and "uhms" and "you know").
Note to self: Teach Ella that it is unbecoming of a lady to pee in her bath.
To my devoted readers (all three of you), I’m contemplating moving this blog to a public forum (either by getting a public URL, or using Blogger–yet again). If you’d like a link to the new blog, please let me know.
I’d continue to use Friendster, but it’s so hard to post comments and I am a COMMENT WHORE. So, if you read my blog, drop me a line. It’s good to know that my rants do not fall on deaf ears.
My child will no longer have to endure the wrath of limbo. She is now a Christian.
In an intimate ceremony, in the coldest church on earth, and with her grandparents and godparents by her side, Ella was dunked into a pool of germ-laden water. Oh the joy.
I’d just like to say that Ella was the most behaved, and best dressed baby of the bunch. I’m a very proud Mama.
I’d also like to take this chance and apologize to all those people that weren’t able to be a part of her special day. I promise, once we recover from the down payment on the house, and from Uncle Sam, we’ll have a party to rock all parties.
Ella achieved a milestone this morning. We were having one of our 2am conversations, when she stuck her finger up my nose and giggled. There are some skills that you’re just born with. — By the way, thanks to Miss Gee for assuming responsibility over our precious little pill, so that emongs and I could have a post-Valentine’s day date that consisted of haircuts, window shopping, and a wonderful dinner.
emongs,
Dear Ella,
Your babysitter flew off to sunny Mexico for the weekend, so mommy came home to be your PCG (primary care giver) for the rest of the afternoon. Although I was a little uprooted by the change in schedule, the change of plans was an unlikely blessing.
You started laughing outloud a couple of weeks ago, and since then, our conversations consist of belly rolling giggles and oodles of smiles. Your smiles get me through the day, and your giggles make up for the 3am feeding that you insist on having.
I’m even willing to pause my TiVoed episode of Grey’s Anatomy just to talk to you. When you look at me, and run your hand over my mouth and nose, and study the lines of my face, you make my uterus flip. It’s like you’re memorizing my face, as I have yours.
I cherish these moments, as I know that soon you’ll be all grown and will not have time to stare at mommy or will be too cool for our goo-goo gah-gah conversations.
I’d also like to apologize. I’m sorry that I get upset when you don’t nap, or frustrated when you don’t eat, or when I turn red when you throw a tantrum. I just want to let you know that I get frustrated because I love you, and I want to do right by you. I don’t want you to grow up to be some sleep deprived, malnourished, bipolar child that no one wants to deal with. I want you to be the best Ella you can be, and if I have pull out every hair on my head, I’ll do it, because that’s what mothers do. They fight fire for their children.
Now that I have your attention, can I ask a couple of favors? Please be nice to daddy. He hasn’t mastered the art of Ella-isms, and needs a little understanding. Also, please remember, that poopy diapers are for daddies. Mommies are for cuddling and kisses.
Love,
Mama
Rho brought up a good point. Big boobs aren’t always better. Not only do they make you look ridiculous when you’re trying on a strapless dress, but they also make it EXTREMELY difficult to run on a treadmill at speeds greater than one inch an hour. Now, imagine running on a treadmill while wearing a strapless dress. Hmm…
<<<Kris–if you make me wear a strapless dress to your wedding, you’re going to have to staple that sucker onto my chest to keep it from falling off!!!>>>
I use to laugh at my grandmother whose boobs were so droopy and large, that she had once accidentally tucked her boobs into her pants by mistake.
Scary.