We all watched as my Mom carefully entered the house with a tiny pink bundle swaddled in her arms. I ran over to her excitedly and jumped up standing on my tip-toes to get a first glimpse of my new baby sister. My Mom pulled the blankets away and there she was...
My new Cabbage Patch Doll.
The entire room roared in laughter.
“This isn’t my new sister!” I shouted as I stomped my four year old feet in protest.
“No, it isn’t Kimbers. The doll is for being a wonderful big sister. Your sister is over there” she said as she motioned to the car seat.
I hurried my way over to her and removed the blanket. There she was.
My Mamie, Bubba, aunts and uncles all swarmed around her cooing and loving her instantly. I didn’t understand what the big fuss was all about. After all, she wasn’t as cute as I was. She was pink and wrinkly and had a poopie diaper already.
She was ugly.
I watched as she was passed around like a hot potato. Everyone wanted to hold her and kiss her. No one even noticed that I was around.
When pizza came, all the adults moved to the kitchen. My new sister laid in her car seat. I went over to her to see if she was still as ugly as I initially thought she was and sure enough...
She still was.
I thought of how I could regain the spotlight. After all, I was the star of the family for 4 years. I figured if I could get myself into the car seat, all the adults would love me again.
I remember wrapping my 4 year old hands around her newborn ankles and yanking her from the car seat.
I dragged her halfway across the room.
Then sat in the car seat and waited.
When my Mom heard her squawking she came in the room immediately.
“Kimberly Cathleen. WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING!!” she yelled in her meanest Mom voice.
“Mom, she is ugly. I hate her. Take her back.”
Then I got a spank.
That was just the beginning of our tumultuous relationship as sisters.
She used to secretly put boogers in my dinner.
Once, I threw a pop can at her face.
She opened the bathroom door and let her pet parakeet loose while I was dropping the browns at the Super Bowl.
I made up a very catchy jingle that goes a little something like this “Nicole’s a hippopotamus.”
You know, the usual sibling fights.
We were enemies.
It wasn’t until I turned 22 and moved out that our relationship as sisters began to change.
We started to become friends.
Very close friends.
She stood in my wedding.
She “baby-sat” me after I had back surgery.
She stayed up all night with me when I went into labour with my son and I was honoured that she became his godmother.
She gave me strength when I was diagnosed with postpartum depression and now bipolar disorder.
She has been a part of all the major events in my life and I am so lucky for that even after all that I put her through.
She’s kind of like the sister I NEVER HAD...
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