I can't believe it has been 30 years since my baby sister, E2, came into my life.
It seems like just yesterday I was living large as an only child, soaking up my parents' attention and their every waking thought (tee hee hee!). My wishes were their wishes, my dreams their dreams (are you gagging yet?), until SHE arrived.
Life would never be the same.
As I remember it, for the first month of E2's life our mom made me hold her on a pillow as if she were as fragile as Cinderella's glass slipper. Mom has since told me it only happened once and the reason behind it was that she though E2 would roll right off of my little twig legs. Whatever.
E2 was the cutest baby and for the most part I was proud to be her big sister. I say "for the most part" because it didn't take long for my friends to discover her cuteness, too, and want to come over to our house just to spend time with "the new baby." I'll be honest: That sort of rejection stung my little nine year old pride but in retrospect-- and especially looking at old photos of the little culprit-- I understand it. E2 was roly poly in all the best ways, had a sweet disposition, and most of all was so wanted. I can't imagine a baby being more anticipated than her. And 30 years later, she hasn't disappointed yet. Not even close. My love for her overshadows the time she scratched me with her claw and drew blood (I've no idea what led up to such a violent confrontation) and even the battles we had sharing a bathroom as teens. Being her big sister has been, and will always be, one of the greatest joys of my life.
Happy Birthday, Cutie! I love you with all of my heart.
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