Iamsis...my sis

My sister came over last night to pick up her decrepit laptop and to swim. During the summer she comes over often and we head down to the complex's pool to hang out for a couple of hours. Last night was no exception. The water was much colder than normal and apparently that had scared off all of the teeny boppers and obnoxious folk (thankfully). We had the whole place to ourselves for a good part of our time and we had a chance to discuss all those silly girl things two sisters discuss.

Not long after we got in, a family came in with three very small children and what we assumed was another on the way. They were absolutely adorable and very well behaved. The oldest little girl was so funny and friendly. She immediately trudged over on her little floatie and said "Hi! I'm Leah! Who are you?" We giggled and told her our names. My sister went first with "Hi! I am Sis. Leah, giggled and said "Iamsis...nice name." and turned to me. We laughed a while over that one.

Not long after, they left to find warm towels and head to bed. Sis and I stayed on discussing the meaning of life, love, and peanut butter. It hit me kind of slow like how different I am from her. My sister has always followed close behind me in good little sister fashion, trying to mimic a lot of the things I do. We are only three years apart but already our lives have taken drastically different turns.

She was in high school when I first moved to the city. I had a very hard time in high school and I wanted to do anything to get away from it. This move I think was good for her in that she finally had to be the oldest kid and take care of herself and my little brother. Not long after I moved into the city, I met and married hubby and she and little bro got mad at hubby. Big time! Two years ago when we moved back here my relationship with Sis turned into a very cool adult sister relationship. We're really close now and I love that.

Sis is slowly becoming an independent adult. I ran terrified from my past into adulthood embracing it with all my strength. Sis has slowly waded in pausing often to absorb the shock much like we both did at the pool last night. She moved away to college last summer and it was probably the hardest thing she has ever done. She gets homesick very quickly and never strayed from home much even as a kid. She is trying to figure out the dating scene and all that silliness too. She still plays games with the boys and lets her overdramatic personality take charge a lot of the time.

By the time I was her age I had been married three years and we had been trying for three years. I had attended my best friend's funeral, dealt with a miscarriage, moved five or six times and started college. As I listened to her rattle on carefree about how many children she wanted and what she would name them, I realized I had to fastforward through that phase. Within the first six months of our marriage we knew having children was going to be hard. We went from discussions of four to prayers for one. We discussed names in a quiet scared whisper and never lingered on that topic for very long.

There is part of me that envies my sister now. I wish I could go back and soak up those fancy free days where the crisis of the week is what color nail polish to wear. I love her very much and in her own way she helps me so much with my struggles. I can't tell her much because mom loves to pump her for info but I can dream with her and imagine a life where infertility hasn't got a solid grip on my heart. We can sit for several hours sometimes looking at cute little baby things and giggling over silly names. We can talk about boys and how weird they are. We talk about the future when we will both drive mini vans and meet at the soccer field while our kids grow up side by side.

She was such a pain in the butt when we were growing up, but now she has become one of my best friends. We have our moments when her dramatic productions grate my nerves but I love her despite all of that. I can't wait to see her find the man of her dreams and settle down. I pray quite often for that poor man. He will have to be a saint with the patience of Job to manage her tantrums! When I'm saying those prayers I usually find myself whispering a quiet prayer that she can remain fancy free and unjaded by the horrors of infertility. I hope she gets her four kids someday, and I'll be happy if I can get just one...