The SisterHood

Beyond the subject of Disneyland, valentines weekend, and the many shows we went to this weekend, here's an interesting subject: Sisters.

After seeing: Maurine & Norine and following it to The Sister Project I began to think of my sisters.

In my family, with Adam. and even some of my friends, I'm well known for my hardcore twin envy. I'm obsessed with twins. I can't get enough of everything from matching outfits, celebrity twins (Naima on ANTM, ashton kutcher, even elvis! but not the olsens, they scare me.). I've somehow been convinced, much to my parents dismay and my other siblings amusement that I was missing a twin. Often times I'd day dream about my long lost twin and how wonderful it would be. A lot of people tell me it couldn't possibly be that great, having to always compete and be compared. But I'm not a very competitive (I think) or jealous (I know) kind of person.

And just this evening Adam and I were talking about what would happen if I suddenly found out I *did* have a twin. The thought alone made me so happy I blushed. We came to the conclusion, after many hypothetical scenarios, that I would love to have a twin and know her, even if she was horrible and mean, or we didn't get along, or love me, or was a thousand times more wonderful than I am than not have a twin at all. I'd rather know I had a twin and only see her once in my life than not have one. that's how much I want a twin. It's a strange and neurotic and sometimes embarrassing obsession.

But then I began to think that I may not have a twin. But at least I have sisters.

I am both an older and a younger sister. We aren't very close in age (8 yrs apart and 12 yrs apart) but we try to be close. I can honestly say that, while she drives me absolutely crazy, half the time I'm swearing I can't stand her, and for the past several months we haven't been tip top shape, She's still the best bigger sister I think anyone could ask for. She mothered me and took care or me sometimes more than my own mom did.

Here's a funny tidbit: ever since I was 12 or so my older sister has CONTINUALLY denied that she didn't teach me to tie my shoes, or to read, or how to add or multiply and a multitude of other things that I REMEMBERED her teaching me. But she insisted so forcefully and so often that I almost began to doubt myself and my own memories. Only, after a decade of lying, did she finally admit that she did teach them to me: she only lied because she wanted me to feel more independent. Like I did all those things and could do a million others all by myself.

And while, even with such a great example set for me, I find myself struggling to be a good older sister as well. When she was a baby I babysat all summer long, I learned how to use her little asthma machine and administer it while she took a nap once a day. i changed her diapers and I dressed her in tutus. But as she grew up I didn't know how (and honestly still don't) to balance being her teacher and her caretaker with also being her friend. I thought I was more interested in teaching her wrong and right, and what not to do, more than I was interested in just bonding. I guess it's a learning process and we can't all be perfect.

And so, while I lament that I don't have many girlfriends, especially not any close ones, and I have yet to find my long lost twin... I am very grateful that I at least have sisters. (but don't get me started on my brothers. that's a WHOLE other story!)

Maybe I'll eventually talk about the million ways my siblings and I are alike and the million and one ways we're completely opposite from one another. Having such a big family really makes me question: nature or nurture?