My Sisters

Sisters are wonderful.

You can’t imagine sleeping by yourself at night without the sounds of their breathing in the bed next to you when you’re little, you wish you could own just one freaking piece of clothing that none of your sisters would borrow without asking when you’re a teenager, and you would give her the shirt off your back in a heartbeat once you break twenty.

I didn’t want girls. I was supposed to have boys.

I was terrified and thrilled when I had my second girl.

They would adore each other and make each other cry.

They would laugh until their stomachs ached and storm angrily out of the room.

Their eyes would shine to watch the other succeed and would battle for attention and the upper hand.

I should know, I have a bunch of sisters and went through seasons of loving, adoring, idolizing, wishing we weren’t related, reconciling, missing, then loving, then adoring them again.

I don’t think there’s a picture of the four of us since the day I married Doc. That was almost seven years ago! We’re kind of scattered everywhere- one in Phoenix, one in Michigan, one in Ohio, and me in the South.  I miss them and I’m so proud of them.

I’ve picked up another sister along the way-

She’s the pretty one in the white dress (and I stole the photo from my MIL’s facebook page… Thanks Deeda!).  I’m the first one she’s ever had but I’ve never busted her chin, thank goodness.

Anyway, seeing these pictures of my girlies got me all sentimental. I had to share.

I love my sisters.

So, so much!





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