Attention everyone. I just received this important document via email from my sister. If it makes no sense to you, then read this. Regardless, I have to ask…which mask do you think is better? And though I know this photo offers incriminating evidence to the contrary, I do have a neck…for the record.
Growing up shopping with my sister, if I would see a shirt or a pair of shoes I thought I liked, I would test it out by holding it up for her to see in order to get her reaction. If it was favorable, I liked it. If it was not, I suddenly saw the merchandise from a new perspective…namely, hers. And being nearly 4 years her junior, hers seemed to be the only one that mattered. If I am completely honest, it still is to a certain degree.
If you ask her about it, she will undoubtedly roll her eyes and disclaim her good taste as simply having distinct opinions about her…opinions. Maybe that is actually the thing I admire: she knows what she likes and what she dislikes. No apologies. No explanation required. I think that says something about her personality, and probably mine as well.
Her birthday was last week. She is the most fun person to shop for. My goal is always to choose something that won’t end up in her yard sale pile (she’s an addict too…where do you think I got it?) This year, I decided to forgo housewares and fashion and went with books instead: a Southern Living recipe book and Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility. You can’t go wrong with food and culture, right?
And by the way…it is 5:15 am. My son is interpreting nighttime as time-to-get-up-and-play time. He’s asleep now. I, however, am not.
Most of my Halloweens have been spent in dark back rooms with shades pulled, vaguely lit by the blue glow of the TV. We didn’t trick-or-treat and we didn’t hand out candy. We didn’t celebrate Halloween. We hid, basically.
There was one year, however, when we were allowed to dress up. I don’t know why. Kids don’t question these things. I was a barbie. I had a mask with holes for eyes, nose and a tiny tease of a slit at the mouth, just big enough to stick your tongue through but not big enough to get it back out again. I remember having to choose between seeing or breathing because the one-size-fits-no-one mask was too big. I think it also came with a plastic apron “dress”. My sister tells me we fought over my mask that day, I think because the painted plastic hair was better somehow. I’m not sure why I won that fight. I probably cried. But I’m sure she will comment to this.
Last night I went to Target to get candy to give to the trick-or-treaters in our neighborhood. Warning: there are indeed brightly colored Christmas ornaments displayed next to the ceramic pumpkins in the seasonal section. Just so you know. I happened to remember just before I left that the baby needs a toothbrush for his 6 teeth. So I bought 4 bags of candy and 2 toothbrushes. I thought it was funny and mentioned it to the cashier. She didn’t laugh. I also shopped for some earrings to wear to a wedding this weekend. I found the perfect ones and almost bought them…until I realized they were cuff links. Oh, well.
So yeah…we won’t be hiding out in the back room tonight. Its a good thing, since we don’t really have a back room. I think giving out candy will be a great way to continue to connect with some of our neighbors. And you know what Halloween means? It means tomorrow is November and I can officially listen to Christmas music.
I know, I’m worse than Target.
My girls have been fighting a lot lately. Like, A LOT. I guess I kind of get it…for three and a half years they have done everything together. It all started when they were conceived at the same time. Kind of crazy if you let yourself think about it. Two eggs? Both fertilized? Are you kidding me?
Then when they came out, they had to share us and the attention. No sooner would I be gazing into one pair of dark eyes than the other one would need something.
They still take baths together. Here’s a shot from before they could even sit up on their own. Glad those days are over.
It also makes me think of my own sister. She is almost four years older than I am. Funny how back then, those almost-four-years meant I thought braces were cool and I was a tag-a-long and she got to do everything and she basically hung the moon.
Yeah. She’s the one with the cool braces. I’m the…other one.
I just saw her last weekend. Seeing her reminded me to remember to miss her. And missing her I am. I don’t like my town as much without her in it. And it makes me think about my girls and how they are together almost too much…but how when they grow up, they won’t be.
Our almost-four-year age difference is pretty insignificant now. I know better than to think braces are cool and we do things together now rather than me tagging along. One thing hasn’t changed, though…I pretty much still think she hung the moon.
Coming home from school was always a part of the day I looked forward to when I was a kid. I remember sitting in my first grade classroom at the end of the day and hearing the big orange-yellow buses pull up in front of the school…lining up in predictable order to take us home. There seemed to be at least a small bit of excitement about going home every afternoon. There was sure to be Mom who would always have some type of snack for us. There was also another aspect to the after school routine at our house…TBS.
Every afternoon at 4:05, reruns of The Brady Bunch aired on TBS. (Remember when TBS did everything on the five?) Except I’m not sure if I knew at the time that they were reruns. Thus began my association of comfort and safety with a TV show. Shameful, I know.
It wasn’t until years later that I became so hooked on another show. Not that I didn’t watch TV during all those years…but I don’t remember another show I really attached memories to like I did The Brady Bunch. Until the spring of 2002 when The Man and I began to watch the end of season 4 of Survivor with my sister and brother-in-law. It wasn’t so much the show itself at that time. It was the fact that my sister and I now lived in the same town (which hadn’t been true since I was in high school). And now we had a night, Thursday nights. That was our night…to hang out, eat dinner together, play with our nephews, and after they were tucked in, to turn on CBS and watch random people outwit, outplay, outlast.
We watched several seasons on Thursday nights together, until one particular Thursday afternoon I took a pregnancy test that turned out to be positive and 9 months (or so) later, we had twins. Evening outings became a thing of the past and our Thursday nights with my sister became Thursday nights at home. Watching Survivor, just the 2 of us…well, it wasn’t the same. And so we stopped.
Thanks be to a certain female contestant on Survivor China premiering tonight for resurrecting our desire to watch. She happens to be a co-worker and friend of my parents. So I’m making a chocolate chip pie and inviting friends over to watch not-so-random people outwit, outplay, outlast.
It won’t be the same as it once was…the glory days of the early seasons with my family. But it will be fun to have someone to cheer for.
So its May now, and there are a lot of good things about May…the flowers, the weather for the most part, and the anticipation of weeks at the beach. But this year, May has symbolized the ending of a lot of things. Most significantly, The Man and I had our last Sunday at the church where we have spent all our married days. And, though we will remain in the same house and the same town, this job change is a big one….because it hasn’t been “just a job”, but a home. And I will miss them. To add to the sadness, the very church we are heading to is the same one my sister and her family are preparing to leave…as they are moving from here (where they have lived the past 5 years) to Charlotte.
Those are the socially acceptable sad goodbyes. But somehow this week, the day after the season finales of American Idol and Lost, I found myself short tempered and weepy. And I felt the same way after watching The Office finale and after the Gilmore Girls series finale party. (That one brought tears during the show itself.) What does that say about me that the sadness of my sister moving away doesn’t hit until my favorite show takes a break for the summer?