Five Sisters, Five Balls Of Fire!
|4 wheeling, swimming and berry picking available at the "country sister's house".|
Three years ago, the oldest of my four sisters sent me a book called "The Satellite Sisters". Finally, a book by and about real sisters!
I adore my sisters and my husband's sisters and other people's sisters!
I think sisters are the bees knees.
BUT, most "sister books" make me go "Huhwha?" With the sweet, sweet, hand holding. With the sweet, sweet words of wisdom. With the sweet, sweet "I saved my sister from a drunken one eyed shark attack".
I just do not relate to those stories.
My sisters and I call each other throughout our busy days with one liners like "I'm so hugely pregnant that I can't see my feet", or "I just looked at your facebook pictures- a camisole is an undergarment ONLY!" and now that we are mothers, we have advanced to phrases like, "Child abuse is wrong, child abuse is wrong, child abuse is wrong" and "Stop being a helicopter mom and let the child go to camp already!"
So....when I read "Just remember that you are not the center of whole d- - n universe", I knew I had finally found sisters I could relate to. Five sisters yukkin' it up - this I recognize! (For more information on the Satellite Sisters, click here)
Because I can loop most conversations back to myself or more importantly, HOUSES - I started to think about how different my sisters and I are- right down to our homes!
No matter how grown up and mature (or not) or professional we are in our everyday lives, when we are together, we fall back into our old roles. The academic, the athlete, the cheerleader, etc.
Similarly, our houses cover a wide range of styles.
One sister lives in a dome house on the side of a mountain and is a community organizer/activist/writer. She responded to my "My Name is Kerry and I am a Neat Freak" post with this comment-
"I wish you could see me sitting here,
morning hair sticking straight up, barely able to type
because stuff is piled high on both sides of the key board and
able to roll around in my chair because there are papers
literally over almost every inch of my floor. Help me, Neat
Freak! Help me!"
Another sister lives on four acres, three houses from our mother, in the small Indiana town we grew up in and is a therapist. She is a whirling dervish of activity- every time I visit, a new room has been painted, a sofa recovered, and a new exercise torture machine/ball/wii/yoga mat added. (She doesn't invite me to exercise with her since my unfortunate yoga incident) If we feel inadequate in her wake, she could even provide a small group for us to share our feelings and "process".
Then, there are the subdivision sisters. They are the babies of the group- raised in the era of facebook, texting, tweeting or twittering or whatever, with iphones as accessories. We adore them, are amazed by them and try to impart our dinosaur wisdoms. (They are very grateful, I can assure you)
We will continue to call each other from our little corners of the world, keeping each other in check, encouraging one or the other to just do it and stop being such a "big chicken" and responding with "you are not the boss of me!" All from our dome houses, country houses, and subdivision houses.
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