Disclosure: I’m a member of the Netflix #StreamTeam which means that they pay for the streaming service in exchange for me posting once a month about the service. All opinions are my own. Growing up, my younger sister, Amy, and I were always opposites. I was the introvert, she the extrovert, I had blonde hair, she had dark brown hair. Amy was popular, I was not. She liked Beverly Hills 90210 and I didn’t. Being so different led to many fights over the years, to the point that my mom worried that we would irreparably harm our relationship. Despite our differences,
My house doesn’t look special on the outside. It looks like your typical suburban ranch home. Once you walk inside our house, you realize it is filled with children. At the entry way sits a doll nursery set (purple, of course) as well as a child-size rocking chair. A few steps further, you will see the living room furniture as well as a child table and chair set in the corner. If you happen into our home before lunch, you will also likely see a fort built of multiple pillows and blankets (pink, naturally) hiding our coffee table. And, on the
On this day forty years ago, I was sick and miserable, like today. At very nearly three years old, though, I needed my mom, but she wasn’t there for me. I felt angry and upset. It wasn’t that my mom didn’t want to be there for me. She did. However, she had other priorities that day; namely, giving birth to my little sister, Amy. The arrival of my baby sister meant I went from only child to older sister. When my sister finally came home, a few days later, I gave my mom the silent treatment, but gushed over Amy.
Growing up, my sister, Amy, always moaned that pictures of me outnumbered pictures of her. I was the oldest, and she was the youngest. The youngest often gets the shaft, from what I understand*. With that in mind, I’ve made a conscious effort to take lots of pictures of both my girls. However, when it comes to blogging, there is a striking difference. As I look at what I’ve written, I realize I haven’t said much about my youngest daughter, Grace. It isn’t that I’m ignoring her. Far from it; she is hard to ignore. Grace is just quieter than her
My two little angels! My girls are two of the best things that have ever happened in my life. I love and adore them. I am so thankful to God for blessing me with them. Heck, I even feel this way on days when they make life challenging, like when my toddler has tantrum after tantrum or the baby decides to only give me 5 hours sleep (not all continuous). They are my little angels on earth. What amazes me most is how their little personalities continue to develop. Both of my daughters are full of smiles. From the time