Made a fast trip up to the family in Arkansas this weekend to bang hair, celebrate birthdays and play with the kiddos. As usual, we never have time to do anything, see much of each other, or get much accomplished before it’s time for me to leave.
These short visits are frustrating at worst, and at best they tide us over until the next one. I’m so excited that we’ve got a weekend on the books for them to come hang out at my house and just chill out and do stuff. September I think is when that’ll happen.
I really wish I just could have my sister for a long weekend. Just us girls. It’ll happen eventually, the boys are getting older and easier to leave. Someday. Until then, I’m just so thankful that she and I have a relationship that is good and filling and easy. I can’t tell you how many conversations I have with women about their sisters that start out in the negative. Bitch. Complain. Whine. Moan. Vent. Growl. Real anger. Displaced anger. Anything and absolutely everything negative.
And I listen. Because we all have those moments of grrr with family. But all the while I’m listening, and nodding and being the soundboard I’m mentally sending up a prayer of thanks that my sister and I just don’t have that. When I said just this to her this weekend, she laughed and said, “what’s there to fight about?”
Because it’s really just her and I. Team Us.
indeed Sisser….what is there to fight about?
I’m channeling her now, laundry is going, hanging on the line to dry (and the line broke. yeah. another awesome thing) I’ve got the floors swept and the kitchen cleaned and I’m about to bust out the mop and the Shark to steam clean. I’ve got veggies marinating to grill tonight. My portobello mushrooms had molded dangit, so it’ll be veg and maybe some couscous I picked up when I was feeling fancy. Even when I get my stuff done here, I know she will have miles to go before she sleeps.
Before I close, I want to link to another blogpost. It’s one of the greatest things I’ve read in awhile, for all of us who have struggled with our bodies, with finding clothes that fit, with feeling inferior when we look at the magazines that tell us the stars are JUST LIKE US…my fatass they are. Did Jennifer Anniston just have to repair a clothesline that was full of clean wet clothes that are now covered in grass that smells of cat pee? Pfffft. I digress. Go. I implore you. Read the post. And then say with me…Tailored? WFT? That’s awesome…now how much does that shit cost???
What is there to fight about…indeed.