I have been doing this Stay at Home Mom thing for almost 6 years. Its been a struggle at times, its been a choice I have had to defend without totally believing myself, and it has been the absolute most life-changing decision I ever made. I have questioned myself so many times, been my own worst critic, and only now am I seeing that, in addition to being hard, being home with my children in this way is the best. I can't imagine having done it any differently (well, maybe planning ahead financially would have helped, but it is what it is). So why? What makes the sacrifices and isolation and exhaustion worth it? The answer is my boys. This life does not give daily or weekly or even monthly progress. It does not give back every other week the amount of money my time is worth. There are no vacation days or sick days or mental health days. There is no one to tell me if I am doing everything completely wrong...at the end of the day the most I can usually point to is the continued existence of my kids. But they have shown me, over the course of these years, that they do hear me, that they do benefit from my time and attention. They have blossomed into amazing little people with (strong) opinions and preferences, and there are things I can point at and say, I taught them that!
Last year was difficult for many reasons...more difficult than this current year has been. A big part of that was the frustrating and disgusting process of potty learning that I began with my oldest son and continued on to the second one. There were days when I sat in the bathroom with my sweet boy as he screamed at me, too many times that I cleaned poo out of underwear, and so many nights when I wondered if it would ever sink in. Suddenly, just as I wanted to throw in the towel and stay in diapers indefinitely, he got it. I sat in shock as my 5 year old walked to the bathroom all by himself and went with complete independence. That was the turning point; within a few weeks, I didn't need to remind him to stop playing and go, nor did I have to clean any wet or poopy clothes. When I accompanied him on his class trip this past October, his teacher praised him for his independence and explained that he is the only student in his class who does so. In that moment, it was all worth it. Amazingly, all the trouble and stress and just gross-ness disappeared as I looked at my son with pride. It was hard, but we made it through to the other side. That perspective has served me well ever since. I remind myself of how long it took to get to this place of independence, and how worthwhile it is now that we are here. As I continue to work with the younger two all day, I can think ahead to what wonderful people they will be in just a few years, after the tantrums and the crying fits and the dependence subside.
And another thing...taking a break from working and having kids has really made me a terrible employee. When I am home, I am completely, unilaterally, Joseph-Stalin-in-charge. I determine everything, from the menu for the day, what we will play, what we will wear (although James has finally started having some input on that one), and most of the time, my attitude and mood affect everyone else in the house. So to put on a corporate shirt and put myself under the management of another person is hard. Especially when so few managers earn respect these days. And its really hard to get yelled at by some stupid person about something over which I have no control, nor did I cause, while thinking about my children at home without me. I mean, yes, they yell at me over things which I can't control...they ask me for snow in August and candy at bedtime and for Lightning McQueen to be real...but they're children and I expect them to be irrational and impatient. I hope that our time together and the coming years teach them to let go of these childish ways so they can treat people in the service industry with respect. But I would rather face their tantrums than those of a 50 year old businessman. I like that I can spend five days in a row wearing sweatpants when I have my period, that I can go outside when the weather is nice and stay in when it is not, and I really like not having to answer to anyone else about how I spend my day (I asked my hubs recently what he thought about me being home and did he wish I had a job or was going to get one in the future, and he said he trusts me completely with how I spend my time, he knows I'm an active person who will always make good use of it...isn't he the best?). So, while being a full-time mom is tough, in comparison to any other job I've had, its the best.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Staying Home: Why its Hard
Every woman faces a choice when she gives birth: do I work or stay home? For some, the choice is easy. Perhaps you are already at home, or perhaps you have a job that is important, that you love, that pays the majority (or all) of your bills. But if you are like me, you faced a Fork in the Road. A point when you decided to become a stay at home mom, rather than continue at a job that paid too little to afford daycare, that daily put you in the line of fire for an ignorant person to take their frustration out on you, that didn't seem worth sacrificing time with your child. I didn't know many stay homes when I was growing up. My mom worked throughout my childhood, and I never doubted that she loved me and cared about the person I was becoming. And just as I assumed that I would have a natural at-home birth like my mom, I also figured I would just keep on working after. But as I saw my friends have babies and return to work after six weeks, it became apparent that maternity leave was not long enough to adjust to all the changes motherhood brought...nor was it long enough for breastfed babes to sleep through the night, thus allowing their milk source to sleep. My job was nothing special; I'd been starting to look for something different when I got the two pink lines on the pregnancy test. I also met some real stay at home moms, and saw that they were making one income work. So I decided to give it a try, and my husband supported my decision.
In the last six years, I have at times taken part-time employment to help pay the bills or provide a little extra Christmas money, but I have never stopped thinking of myself as a SAHM, because ultimately my little jobs have gotten the absolute last priority in my time, attention, and work ethic (which, yes, made me a bad employee). For the last 12 months, I have been completely at home, and there are days and weeks and sometimes even months when IT IS HARD. The difficulty boils down to adjusting. How do I adjust to the additional time I have with no outside work to do? How do I adjust to the lowered income with no more paychecks coming my way? How do I adjust to the lack of interaction with other adults, losing the time I spent by myself going to and from work, and the relentless demands of young children?
TIME
One of my working moms commented, after spending a week off work at home with her child, how even if she stayed home full time, she would still struggle to get everything done. This is so true. Although in the beginning, with just a newborn baby and a small duplex to care for, there was plenty of time to read and watch TV and take personal time, the pace accelerated by the first birthday, so that I am falling into bed at night listing off all the tasks that remain undone. Most days I have to decide whether to shower or fold laundry during nap times, because attempting either while my young children are unattended will quickly result in an injury or property damage (or both). Besides which, the whole point of staying home is not to win a Martha Stewart award, but to spend time with my children as they grow and develop, to play a prominent role in that, before they head to school for a majority of their day. This has become more clear to me this past year, as my oldest has embarked on his all-day school career, and I am realizing that it won't end until he's ready to move out. Although we still have nights and weekends and breaks (not to mention copious sick days), I am now sharing much of the work of teaching and molding him with his teachers and classmates. There are days when I miss the duties of outside work, the sense of accomplishment in doing something (even if its just cashing a check or serving a drink) and the reward of having others recognize your role. I have a wonderful husband who tries to do this for me...for instance, the other day he came home and called to me from another room, "Oh, did you vacuum today?" Thinking he noticed how much cleaner the house looked, I walked toward him, ready to receive my praise, only to find him returning a rug to its rightful place on the floor. "So you only noticed because things were out of place, not because it looks clean?" I asked. Yep. Its hard to wash the same clothes and dishes over and over and not feel done. Its hard to make three meals a day for people who can't even talk, although when they do, they still don't say thank you.
MONEY
Its hard to change from two incomes to one. Americans are much better at spending than cutting back, and I am an excellent American. I'm still figuring out ways to make ends meet, finding cheaper alternatives to products and services, and ultimately, giving up quite a bit. New clothes are a thing of the past. New toys are starting to go that way too. Coloring books still have to be new, although I've gotten great deals at the One Spot and other discount places. Chris and I loved to eat at restaurants whenever possible in the pre-baby days, but that was another sacrifice to the single income lifestyle, especially once our baby decided he would rather throw a tantrum than sit in a high chair. Its more enjoyable to sit across our kitchen table at mealtimes, while the children crawl and run and jump around us than to take turns walking a kiddo around until the food comes and take turns eatimg alone at Fridays. One of my husband's coworkers told him she will always be a working mom, because she doesn't want to give up the beach vacations and the new cars. She had an easy decision, because those are so far down our list of things to save for, I don't even know when they will happen again. Its hard to go from shopper to thrifter.
HELLO? IS ANYONE ELSE THERE?!
The thing I loved most about outside employment was spending time with coworkers. My last job, the one I described so grimly at the outset, was working in a bank with six other women. We had so much time between customers, sorting cash, shredding old documents, and we filled it with endless conversations. These ladies were so different and colorful and open, and my first months at home I ached to go sit with them for just an hour, to tell someone else what was going on with me, and to hear what was happening outside my little house. I missed the 55 year old grandmother, who would actively listen to me gripe about some problem, then offer the most compassionate, insightful response. I missed the manager, a feisty little woman barely five feet tall, who loomed over us all with her confidence and authority. She would say the funniest things when she got worked up, which was at least once a week, and I always knew where I stood with her. In contrast, my babies would at times cry for no reason, would not respond to my attempts to comfort them, would be more calm in the arms of others or even alone in their cribs. Its hard not to take that as rejection. Its hard to have perspective on your own life without someone to be a mirror, to call you on your crap or show you the way. I spent a long time trying to find mom friends and mom mentors, anyone who understood the life I had chosen and could offer support or solutions. I think I've found that at last, and it has much to do with the moments of peace I find throughout the day. Its hard to be alone with my kids. Its hard to spend all day talking to myself.
In the last six years, I have at times taken part-time employment to help pay the bills or provide a little extra Christmas money, but I have never stopped thinking of myself as a SAHM, because ultimately my little jobs have gotten the absolute last priority in my time, attention, and work ethic (which, yes, made me a bad employee). For the last 12 months, I have been completely at home, and there are days and weeks and sometimes even months when IT IS HARD. The difficulty boils down to adjusting. How do I adjust to the additional time I have with no outside work to do? How do I adjust to the lowered income with no more paychecks coming my way? How do I adjust to the lack of interaction with other adults, losing the time I spent by myself going to and from work, and the relentless demands of young children?
TIME
One of my working moms commented, after spending a week off work at home with her child, how even if she stayed home full time, she would still struggle to get everything done. This is so true. Although in the beginning, with just a newborn baby and a small duplex to care for, there was plenty of time to read and watch TV and take personal time, the pace accelerated by the first birthday, so that I am falling into bed at night listing off all the tasks that remain undone. Most days I have to decide whether to shower or fold laundry during nap times, because attempting either while my young children are unattended will quickly result in an injury or property damage (or both). Besides which, the whole point of staying home is not to win a Martha Stewart award, but to spend time with my children as they grow and develop, to play a prominent role in that, before they head to school for a majority of their day. This has become more clear to me this past year, as my oldest has embarked on his all-day school career, and I am realizing that it won't end until he's ready to move out. Although we still have nights and weekends and breaks (not to mention copious sick days), I am now sharing much of the work of teaching and molding him with his teachers and classmates. There are days when I miss the duties of outside work, the sense of accomplishment in doing something (even if its just cashing a check or serving a drink) and the reward of having others recognize your role. I have a wonderful husband who tries to do this for me...for instance, the other day he came home and called to me from another room, "Oh, did you vacuum today?" Thinking he noticed how much cleaner the house looked, I walked toward him, ready to receive my praise, only to find him returning a rug to its rightful place on the floor. "So you only noticed because things were out of place, not because it looks clean?" I asked. Yep. Its hard to wash the same clothes and dishes over and over and not feel done. Its hard to make three meals a day for people who can't even talk, although when they do, they still don't say thank you.
MONEY
Its hard to change from two incomes to one. Americans are much better at spending than cutting back, and I am an excellent American. I'm still figuring out ways to make ends meet, finding cheaper alternatives to products and services, and ultimately, giving up quite a bit. New clothes are a thing of the past. New toys are starting to go that way too. Coloring books still have to be new, although I've gotten great deals at the One Spot and other discount places. Chris and I loved to eat at restaurants whenever possible in the pre-baby days, but that was another sacrifice to the single income lifestyle, especially once our baby decided he would rather throw a tantrum than sit in a high chair. Its more enjoyable to sit across our kitchen table at mealtimes, while the children crawl and run and jump around us than to take turns walking a kiddo around until the food comes and take turns eatimg alone at Fridays. One of my husband's coworkers told him she will always be a working mom, because she doesn't want to give up the beach vacations and the new cars. She had an easy decision, because those are so far down our list of things to save for, I don't even know when they will happen again. Its hard to go from shopper to thrifter.
HELLO? IS ANYONE ELSE THERE?!
The thing I loved most about outside employment was spending time with coworkers. My last job, the one I described so grimly at the outset, was working in a bank with six other women. We had so much time between customers, sorting cash, shredding old documents, and we filled it with endless conversations. These ladies were so different and colorful and open, and my first months at home I ached to go sit with them for just an hour, to tell someone else what was going on with me, and to hear what was happening outside my little house. I missed the 55 year old grandmother, who would actively listen to me gripe about some problem, then offer the most compassionate, insightful response. I missed the manager, a feisty little woman barely five feet tall, who loomed over us all with her confidence and authority. She would say the funniest things when she got worked up, which was at least once a week, and I always knew where I stood with her. In contrast, my babies would at times cry for no reason, would not respond to my attempts to comfort them, would be more calm in the arms of others or even alone in their cribs. Its hard not to take that as rejection. Its hard to have perspective on your own life without someone to be a mirror, to call you on your crap or show you the way. I spent a long time trying to find mom friends and mom mentors, anyone who understood the life I had chosen and could offer support or solutions. I think I've found that at last, and it has much to do with the moments of peace I find throughout the day. Its hard to be alone with my kids. Its hard to spend all day talking to myself.
Monday, December 17, 2012
The Little Things
Yesterday I baked cookies. Its become a fun ritual this school year, spending Sunday afternoons in the kitchen baking goodies to pack in the lunches all week. Its a little time to myself, although a few weeks ago I got James in on the action by measuring out ingredients and letting him toss them into the mixer. He really liked it, and hopefully its something we do more often. But for now, its mostly for me. Its a nice time to be productive and let my mind wander. I have been planning which of my cookies I think are the best, which I want to share with my friends and the people I appreciate this Christmas. I do this every December, but sometimes I talk myself out of actually giving out cookies. I think, this is such a little thing, people won't care if I do it or not, they'll think I'm weird, over and over in my head until I talk myself out of doing something I wanted to do to be nice. A few years back, our pastor challenged us to find someone who serves us regularly, whether it be a waiter or barista, or some other job that gets done for us, and do something nice. Give the person a $5 gift card. Let them know that you appreciate what they have done for you the whole year. I sat in church trying to think if there was a service person who I saw often enough to do this for, and then I realized that the same young woman made me a burrito at Chipotle every other Wednesday. She was always friendly and recognized me, and I stopped off and bought a candy bar and wrapped it in ribbon and put it in the car. Then I agonized for about a week whether or not to give it to her. I seriously need to get out of my head sometimes, my husband had no idea what to do with the wreck of a wife I had left him with. So finally, the Wednesday before Christmas, I took a deep breath and brought the candy bar into Chipotle. But I didn't see her! As the other person made my burrito, I asked about the red-head who usually worked. "Who, Jaime? She's on her break right now." Actually...that's perfect. So I asked her to give Jaime the candy bar and wished her a Merry Christmas, and stumbled out into the cold, shaking from my nervousness. I did it! Phew. Now....would Jaime think I was nuts? Would she eat the candy bar or eye it suspiciously? Fast forward another two weeks, and I am back at Chipotle to pick up my burrito. There is Jaime, once again manning the salsa, and she looks up at me with a bright smile. "Did you bring me candy a few weeks ago?" she asked. "Oh, um, yeah." And she smiled a little bigger and said, "Thank you so much, that seriously made my day." Aww! I explained about my pastor and how I thought of her and how she is always nice to me and I just wanted to let her know I appreciated it. I think about that exchange sometimes, how very little it cost me to do something for her, and yet how much it brightened her face. How much does it take to send an encouraging text or email? How much effort is required to give a smile and make eye contact with the people around us? How much does it cost to make a batch of cookies and give them away? The answer is VERY LITTLE. And yet, how much does it mean to the recipient? Why do we hold ourselves in, as though we are risking anything to give love and kindness freely every day?
After James left for school today, I loaded a few plates with the cookies I made yesterday and drove to his school. I had been thinking for a few weeks that I should make a plate for his teachers, for all the wonderful work they've done this year. But as I baked yesterday, my idea grew. I thought of the faculty at Sandy Hook Elementary. I thought of the principal who gave her life issuing a warning to the rest of the school. I thought of the teachers hiding children so their young lives could continue. There is nothing I can do for those wonderful people, but I am just a few streets away from a school full of educators willing to do the exact same thing for my child and my neighbors' children. And so I wrote a note, thanking the office workers for all they do, and I dropped off my plates with the secretary. She asked, "You made these for us?" as though no one had ever brought her cookies before. I struggled to get words out without bursting into tears, but yes, I made these for you, for all you do, and to let you know that I appreciate you. Merry Christmas.
*I kind of hate that this blog post sounds like a "Look at me, look what I've done", but I only mean it to say these are easy things that we can all do regularly. In a court of generosity, there are many who surpass me in the ways they give, but in doing these little acts, I hope that a bigger sense of giving can grow in my heart and in my family. Let's make the world a better place, right now.
After James left for school today, I loaded a few plates with the cookies I made yesterday and drove to his school. I had been thinking for a few weeks that I should make a plate for his teachers, for all the wonderful work they've done this year. But as I baked yesterday, my idea grew. I thought of the faculty at Sandy Hook Elementary. I thought of the principal who gave her life issuing a warning to the rest of the school. I thought of the teachers hiding children so their young lives could continue. There is nothing I can do for those wonderful people, but I am just a few streets away from a school full of educators willing to do the exact same thing for my child and my neighbors' children. And so I wrote a note, thanking the office workers for all they do, and I dropped off my plates with the secretary. She asked, "You made these for us?" as though no one had ever brought her cookies before. I struggled to get words out without bursting into tears, but yes, I made these for you, for all you do, and to let you know that I appreciate you. Merry Christmas.
*I kind of hate that this blog post sounds like a "Look at me, look what I've done", but I only mean it to say these are easy things that we can all do regularly. In a court of generosity, there are many who surpass me in the ways they give, but in doing these little acts, I hope that a bigger sense of giving can grow in my heart and in my family. Let's make the world a better place, right now.
Friday, December 14, 2012
2012 A Year of Lists
Don't you just love end of the year lists? Top 100 songs...The best books of the Year...even Facebook will helpfully remind you of your top events from the past year (how do they decide that? the most comments on a status? frequently used words?). So here's a very lazy post comprising of my own lists...
Favorite TV shows I started watching in 2012
*not necessarily shows that were new this year
1. The Mindy Project
2. Smash
3. The Guild
4. Downton Abbey
5. Raising Hope
My Biggest Moments of the Year, that most likely never were posted to Facebook
1. Finalizing our adoption
2. Joining Family Village
3. Finding a new resource and reassurance from Mommy Bloggers
4. Taking my family to Texas for the first time
5. Sending my oldest baby to school all-day!
Biggest moments for the Kids, therefore amazing moments I got to witness
1. Two fully potty-trained kids!
2. James and Winston both starting to read
3. All of baby's firsts, from crawling to saying "mama" to walking!
4. First plane trip (which really was their first 4 plane trips)
5. Expanding communication that led to beautiful exchanges between me and my children...and also some really annoying arguments.
0...Number of hospital bills for the year!
1...Number of nights we slept soundly with no kids in the house.
3...Number of foster parent training classes I took.
9...Number of mice we killed in our own home...eww!!
25..Number of tomatoes I grew off just one plant this past summer...up from 7 the previous year.
365...Number of days I went to bed completely blessed.
Favorite TV shows I started watching in 2012
*not necessarily shows that were new this year
1. The Mindy Project
2. Smash
3. The Guild
4. Downton Abbey
5. Raising Hope
My Biggest Moments of the Year, that most likely never were posted to Facebook
1. Finalizing our adoption
2. Joining Family Village
3. Finding a new resource and reassurance from Mommy Bloggers
4. Taking my family to Texas for the first time
5. Sending my oldest baby to school all-day!
Biggest moments for the Kids, therefore amazing moments I got to witness
1. Two fully potty-trained kids!
2. James and Winston both starting to read
3. All of baby's firsts, from crawling to saying "mama" to walking!
4. First plane trip (which really was their first 4 plane trips)
5. Expanding communication that led to beautiful exchanges between me and my children...and also some really annoying arguments.
0...Number of hospital bills for the year!
1...Number of nights we slept soundly with no kids in the house.
3...Number of foster parent training classes I took.
9...Number of mice we killed in our own home...eww!!
25..Number of tomatoes I grew off just one plant this past summer...up from 7 the previous year.
365...Number of days I went to bed completely blessed.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
My Big Sister
In honor of 32 successful years on this planet, I am here today to share my sister with you. How do I explain my connection to someone who has been there all of life? Like literally, our mom had both of us at home, and when I was crowning, my sister wandered in from the living room and when the photos were developed, you could see her blond head standing at the edge of the bed as my mom pushed me out. I guess she experienced some jealousy early on, because soon enough my parents would respond to me crying in my crib only to find tiny bite marks on my arms. If she was trying to scare me off, it didn't work; in fact, it just bonded us together. She was such an extension of myself that for years I refused to call her by her name, but only called out "Sister!" My parents tried to teach me her name. They would spell E-L-I-Z-A-B-E-T-H, and I would say part of it, then change my mind and say "Sister!"
There were only the two of us growing up, a little over a year apart in age, and we did many things together, at the same time, as if we were twins instead. My mom certainly treated us that way, dressing us alike whenever she could find (or make) two outfits that matched. The only problem being that my sister was so tall at an early age, that we looked a little more like Arnold Schwarzenegger/Danny DeVito "Twins" than Mary-Kate and Ashley twins. Unfortunately, I never "caught up" height-wise, and for my entire life she has made me feel small, juvenile, and dorky by proxy (even in high school when I borrowed her clothes...but if she'd actually driven me to school like she was supposed to, she could have stopped me before I left the house, so I think we're even). Before I was clear on the birds and the bees, she again tried to discredit me as a member of our family by telling me that I was adopted, which meant that I really had no mom or dad, these nice people just found me and brought me home one day (thankfully we had those very explicit birth photos to prove the truth).
She was my first hero and role model. I know there is a perception that younger siblings are snoops and don't respect the privacy of others, but how could I resist sneaking into her backpack in middle school and reading the treasure trove of notes that she and her friends passed back and forth? They had actual boyfriends, they mocked their teachers and their classmates with a ferocity, there were BAD WORDS written on some of them! I wanted to figure out how to be like them, so they would invite me along to go to the movies without our parents. I remember one time, hearing about my sister's plan to meet up with her friends (was it heard through a doorway or a phone extension cleverly picked up mid-conversation? that's not important), and I thought if I could just look really cool for once, she might see me as an equal. So I dressed my best, quickly and efficiently, then sat at the kitchen table knowing she would pass me on her way out the door. I hoped so fervently that some shred of loyalty or kindness would stir in her heart, but when she came down and headed out, she just said goodbye and left. I was crushed, and I cried for a little while, until my parents told me to get over it.
The older I get, the more people I meet, the more special my sister becomes. Because I realize that not everybody has her take charge persona; in fact, some people spend all day talking about what they want to do...meanwhile Liz has gotten up and done it, then stopped off for a latte and a manicure on the way back. She decided to be a doctor, but if she ever decides she doesn't like it, she could always be a computer programmer or interior decorator instead. How many people can boast that broad of a skill set? Certainly not her little sister...I can do a blog or cross-stitch a Bible verse though! And I love that the older we get, the more our similarities come out, like how we've bought the same pair of shoes independent of each other three times now, or watched the Royal Wedding two time zones apart. And we can share books and movies, or trade our kids' toys.
I love my big sister. I love her heart and her generosity, and I love her most when I am not living directly in her shadow :)
There were only the two of us growing up, a little over a year apart in age, and we did many things together, at the same time, as if we were twins instead. My mom certainly treated us that way, dressing us alike whenever she could find (or make) two outfits that matched. The only problem being that my sister was so tall at an early age, that we looked a little more like Arnold Schwarzenegger/Danny DeVito "Twins" than Mary-Kate and Ashley twins. Unfortunately, I never "caught up" height-wise, and for my entire life she has made me feel small, juvenile, and dorky by proxy (even in high school when I borrowed her clothes...but if she'd actually driven me to school like she was supposed to, she could have stopped me before I left the house, so I think we're even). Before I was clear on the birds and the bees, she again tried to discredit me as a member of our family by telling me that I was adopted, which meant that I really had no mom or dad, these nice people just found me and brought me home one day (thankfully we had those very explicit birth photos to prove the truth).
She was my first hero and role model. I know there is a perception that younger siblings are snoops and don't respect the privacy of others, but how could I resist sneaking into her backpack in middle school and reading the treasure trove of notes that she and her friends passed back and forth? They had actual boyfriends, they mocked their teachers and their classmates with a ferocity, there were BAD WORDS written on some of them! I wanted to figure out how to be like them, so they would invite me along to go to the movies without our parents. I remember one time, hearing about my sister's plan to meet up with her friends (was it heard through a doorway or a phone extension cleverly picked up mid-conversation? that's not important), and I thought if I could just look really cool for once, she might see me as an equal. So I dressed my best, quickly and efficiently, then sat at the kitchen table knowing she would pass me on her way out the door. I hoped so fervently that some shred of loyalty or kindness would stir in her heart, but when she came down and headed out, she just said goodbye and left. I was crushed, and I cried for a little while, until my parents told me to get over it.
The older I get, the more people I meet, the more special my sister becomes. Because I realize that not everybody has her take charge persona; in fact, some people spend all day talking about what they want to do...meanwhile Liz has gotten up and done it, then stopped off for a latte and a manicure on the way back. She decided to be a doctor, but if she ever decides she doesn't like it, she could always be a computer programmer or interior decorator instead. How many people can boast that broad of a skill set? Certainly not her little sister...I can do a blog or cross-stitch a Bible verse though! And I love that the older we get, the more our similarities come out, like how we've bought the same pair of shoes independent of each other three times now, or watched the Royal Wedding two time zones apart. And we can share books and movies, or trade our kids' toys.
I love my big sister. I love her heart and her generosity, and I love her most when I am not living directly in her shadow :)
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