Mommy Ever After » sisters

Sister things.

Rebecca Fox Starr — Tue, 17 Mar 2015 17:52:12 +0000

I write a lot on here about my dear, beloved friends, who are like my sisters. We talk constantly, see each other whenever possible and are as close as friends can be.

But I am also lucky enough to have an actual sister; She has appeared many times on here throughout the years, and although we don’t get to see each other as often as we would like, my kids adore her.

My sister and I are completely different. She is a stong, driven athlete and fiercely independent. She is an award winning journalist and her resume is extremely impressive. She is a vegetarian, a runner and she does not like to talk about her feelings.

But, the thing is, there are these things–these sister things–that outweigh all of the differences.

For there is no one else on this earth with whom I can discuss TV shows and characters and storylines like I can with my sister.

(Side note: As I am typing this, she just asked me if I had watched a certain reality TV show on Bravo.)

We have inside jokes that no one else would understand, and when we sing together, our voices resonate in perfect harmony. That is because we are sisters.

There are just some sister things. I can’t explain them. They just are.

Last evening I got a song stuck in my head, but really, it was just about a measure of a song, one to which I knew not a single lyric, but I felt like I had heard it recently and knew that the only person who could possibly help me was my sister. So I called her and said, “I have this song in my head and I have no idea who sings it but I think it is from a TV show or a movie and it goes something like this.” And sang a few “Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun”s to her.

“It’s ‘Take Me to Church’ by Hozier,” she said, instantly.

There was not a second of hesitation. I ran to my computer and to YouTube and sure enough, she was spot on.

She couldn’t tell me where I had heard it recently, and then it hit me: It was from Tom Schwartz’s Instagram.

Fitting that this mystery song came from the social media feed of a Bravo network celebrity, or “Bravolebrity”, as they say.

But I don’t take it for granted, the sister thing, because as different as we may be, we also share something that I do not share with anyone else.

We look alike. Our voices are hard to tell apart on the phone. She was the first person I told when I found out I was pregnant with my son and she was the first person to take my daughter for a pedicure just this past weekend.

She knows things that no one else will ever know.

I may not always understand my sister, as we speak different life languages, but will always get each others’ melodies.

I always love her. I love her an incredible amount. And I know that the feeling is mutual.

I will always support her.

I will always be her number one fan.

And she will always be the person I call when I can’t figure out a song, when I can only come up with three notes.

Because she can figure it out for me.

Because it’s a sister thing.

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To my original little girl,

mommyeverafter — Thu, 17 May 2012 01:08:19 +0000

my sister:
Today, you graduated from Graduate School with your Master’s degree
and I could not be more proud.
As you are about to start your first job,
a real job,
an amazing job,
I can’t help but to gasp as I realize
you are now grown up.
The hours we spent in your little, pink Laura Ashley bedroom,
playing hairdresser as “Sherry Shamu” and “Britney Cooler”,
dressing and undressing Barbie dolls,
making up dance routines to “Do You Love Me?”
and gravity defying games like “Crocabunga”,
did not prepare me for the fact that one day
(today!)
you would no longer be my little sidekick.
That you would grow out of the plastic vanity chair
and the Laura Ashley bedroom
and even the white platform Spice Girls shoes that I forced you to wear for Glamor shots,
and grow up
into a beautiful,
poised,
remarkable
adult.
A person. Who now goes to celebrity stylists
and not good old “Sherry Shamu”.
Who writes a fashion blog
instead of dressing Barbies.
Who walks down the street with confidence and savvy
and a beauty that never fails to take my breath away.
You may be my little
but today
I can’t tell you how much I look up to you.
All my love,
Sherry.

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“A Friend in Need is a Friend, Indeed!”

mommyeverafter — Thu, 07 Oct 2010 19:44:42 +0000

I think that someone was feeling a little need to raise her coolness cred…
I received the following BBM at 2:28 this morning. I bet you can guess who it is from.
“Just want to let you know that I quoted “Big Rock Candy Mountain” drunk right now. FYI.”
If you guessed the baby sister, you’d be correct.
Oh, and in case you’ve been living under a Big Rock (har har har),
this is a video clip of the movie in question:
(oh, and please excuse to strange audio. How is this the ONLY video clip I could find for this movie???)

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true love’s sis

mommyeverafter — Thu, 07 Oct 2010 02:04:44 +0000

This evening, not long after dinnertime,
and just after bathtime,
and right before bedtime,
the baby and I squeezed in a little video-chat time
with my baby sis.
You see, before the baby could bring herself to fall asleep, she needed “True Love’s Kiss” from her favorite Aunt,
which, around these parts, is a special smooch that is reserved for only one’s nearest and dearest.
Oh, and while we’re on the subject, my husband first invented “True Love’s Kiss”, just in case you were wondering.
Anyway, the baby and the baby sis shared some lovely pillow talk,
and I got to do a little catching up, when managed to get a word in edgewise.
We chatted about my new students, her creative writing class, the baby’s sweet potato dinner, our weekend plans, and, I was even treated to a virtual freckle rub…..
when I happened to notice something……
something blue and fleecy that was enveloping my little sister’s little bod.
“Ummm….are you wearing a SNUGGIE?”
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
My White House Intern, foregin lovvaaaaaaaaah-taking, vodka rocks drinking, bbm buddy of a fabulous little sister
wears. a. Snuggie.
And with that, for the first time in a loooooooong time, my sisterly cool stock got just a little higher.
And let me just say, it’s about freakin’ time.

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I’m telling!

mommyeverafter — Wed, 11 Aug 2010 00:47:49 +0000

In response to the photo that I posted of my recently polished nails,
I got the following LSM (Little Sister Message):
“LOVE. I want to copy. Though I won’t because, if history repeats itself as they say it does, you’ll throw the polish at my head. You were such a nice sisty.”
Yes, this is how we talk to each other.
Yes, I threw a bottle of nail polish at her head.
In my defense, that little incident earned me my one and only “grounding” experience.
No, I couldn’t be cool enough to get grounded for being caught at a party (my parents knew about the parties I went to. They were cool like that.) or for being caught with a boy (my parents knew all of the boys I dated. They were so cool that the boys always wanted to hang out with my parents.) My one, major high-school punishment occurred when I threw a bottle of red nail polish at my sister’s head,
and,
with my killer aim,
it hit the sharp edge of my four-poster bed,
shattered,
and landed on my pale, blue rug with a splat.
It looked like a crime scene.
A very glamorous crime scene, at that.
And, the funny thing is, I didn’t get punished for throwing a potentially dangerous object at my sister;
I got punished for making a mess and staining my rug.
What can I say?
We’re talking about my parents, here. You should know that my mom used to let us earn back our privileges. Basically, if we were punished, and then didn’t do anything else wrong for, oh, about 2 hours, we had successfully earned our rights back.
I know. Bad cop.
And though that stained, blue rug is long gone,
the memory of the nail polish nailing that almost-was
is as fresh in my little sister’s head
as the manicure on my nails.
What a wuss.
What, sis?
You’re mad that I called you a wuss?
Fine, go tell on me.
So what if I get in trouble.
I’ll earn my privileges back by dessert time,
anyway.

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