My sister is amazing.
She's not flashy and she ain't got bling. But she's one of the most gentle, genuine hearts I've ever encountered in my life.
And yes, she strikes a mean Easter Bunny pose.
There are so many things I could say about my sister - like how she doesn't have a mean bone in her body or how she's genuine and authentic at all times or how she possesses the patience and gentle demeanor of a Nepali monk.
But right now, as I'm steeped in (fairly) new motherhood, attempting to define myself (and redefine and redefine and redefine...) within that constantly evolving role, I must say she's by far one of the most gifted and loving mamas I know.
Sure, she's my sister. I have to say that, right? Actually, no. I don't. Not everyone we love or know is great at what they do. I know plenty of folks who frankly should have thought twice about taking that job or having a kid. That's harsh but true. But that doesn't apply to my sister.
Like everything she's pursued, her choice to be a mother, and a stellar one at that, has been both thoughtful and deliberate.
I know she's had tough days with her two beautiful teenage daughters, and I know it's been ages since she dealt with the ins and outs of toddlers. But I've been studying, you see. And I've seen my sister evolve from an exuberant and gentle mama of crawlers to an engaging mama of tree climbers to a loving and firm mama of teenagers. And she does it all with a gentle calm that is often so foreign to me that I must summon her awesome mama aura in order to help remind me of how to be the mama I want to be.
And the proof is often in the pudding, right? My sister's daughters are two of the most grounded and confident girls I know. They're navigating the often wonky seas of adolescence with such finesse and poise that I can't help but want to shout my sister's name from the rooftops (and take some serious notes, right?).
Oh, and she's done all this while also pursuing her own education and career as an educator. She flat out amazes me.
At this point, I can actually feel my sister's blush from hundreds of miles away. And I can hear her balking at the idea of taking credit for just being present and conscious in the presence of two wonderful girls. Because, of course, she's humble to boot. And I can't mention her grand and impressive talent as a mama without acknowledging that she had the foresight and wherewithal to pick a partner in life who is not only a stunning father but who supports and encourages her in her dreams.
So I'll stop. Okay? I'll stop. But I had to gush. She's my big sister, after all, and I couldn't imagine my life - as both a woman and now as a mama - without her loving and wise guidance.
And if she wears that bunny suit for the rest of our Easters, I will die a happy woman. Yes, I will.
She's not flashy and she ain't got bling. But she's one of the most gentle, genuine hearts I've ever encountered in my life.
And yes, she strikes a mean Easter Bunny pose.
There are so many things I could say about my sister - like how she doesn't have a mean bone in her body or how she's genuine and authentic at all times or how she possesses the patience and gentle demeanor of a Nepali monk.
But right now, as I'm steeped in (fairly) new motherhood, attempting to define myself (and redefine and redefine and redefine...) within that constantly evolving role, I must say she's by far one of the most gifted and loving mamas I know.
Sure, she's my sister. I have to say that, right? Actually, no. I don't. Not everyone we love or know is great at what they do. I know plenty of folks who frankly should have thought twice about taking that job or having a kid. That's harsh but true. But that doesn't apply to my sister.
Like everything she's pursued, her choice to be a mother, and a stellar one at that, has been both thoughtful and deliberate.
I know she's had tough days with her two beautiful teenage daughters, and I know it's been ages since she dealt with the ins and outs of toddlers. But I've been studying, you see. And I've seen my sister evolve from an exuberant and gentle mama of crawlers to an engaging mama of tree climbers to a loving and firm mama of teenagers. And she does it all with a gentle calm that is often so foreign to me that I must summon her awesome mama aura in order to help remind me of how to be the mama I want to be.
And the proof is often in the pudding, right? My sister's daughters are two of the most grounded and confident girls I know. They're navigating the often wonky seas of adolescence with such finesse and poise that I can't help but want to shout my sister's name from the rooftops (and take some serious notes, right?).
Oh, and she's done all this while also pursuing her own education and career as an educator. She flat out amazes me.
At this point, I can actually feel my sister's blush from hundreds of miles away. And I can hear her balking at the idea of taking credit for just being present and conscious in the presence of two wonderful girls. Because, of course, she's humble to boot. And I can't mention her grand and impressive talent as a mama without acknowledging that she had the foresight and wherewithal to pick a partner in life who is not only a stunning father but who supports and encourages her in her dreams.
So I'll stop. Okay? I'll stop. But I had to gush. She's my big sister, after all, and I couldn't imagine my life - as both a woman and now as a mama - without her loving and wise guidance.
And if she wears that bunny suit for the rest of our Easters, I will die a happy woman. Yes, I will.
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