Let the depression begin

I just spent three fabulous weeks with my sister Becky. Becky and I are really close in age and friendship. We are 10.5 months apart which means we will both be 30 next month at the same time. She was the miracle and I was the "what the heck." Although it wasn't intentional it has been a crazy wonderful experience having a sister so close. We had good times and bad growing up but through all of that we have a great friendship. I don't know that we can be any more alike and different at the same time. People say we talk alike, look alike, and use the same mannerisms. We live parallel lives. We both have two boys, we married men that are similar, we have both flown the Utah home base and we are both dedicated to raising our families in the gospel. We both served a mission. On the flip side she is much more fashion aware than I am, she knows her politics, everyone wants to be her friend, she is extremely thoughtful, she appreciates the memories and little things in life, she always says sorry and she gets homesick. I always wish I could be a little bit more like her.

When we were little she used to bribe me to play barbies and I used to bribe her to play games. I'm not sure why, but we used to grab each other by the neck and pinch as hard as we could. We spent hours playing in the playhouse and outside. I remember one time I was mad at her and told her that I would get her sick if she didn't stop bugging me. She didn't so I pinned her down and breathed into her face. Yup, she got sick. We always dressed alike and our favorite outfits were the ones with the owls on them and pink knicker bockers.





I know she loves me because she didn't kick us out of her house after Cole peed on the stairs, Ethan peed on the rug, Ethan's poopy diaper leaked all over the stairs, Cole's wet pullup leaked on the new leather couch and Cole threw up on her bed. Not to mention milk and cheerios all over the floor and car. (Yeah, no joke, all of that happened on our last trip). When we are together we can talk and talk and talk. As her husband likes to point out we seem to talk about the same things over and over but it doesn't matter to us. We love to share ideas and experiences. Even if we have nothing to say we are comfortable being together in silence.

Every time I come home from a visit I get depressesd not being able to talk to her about every little thing that is going on. So, Becky, thanks for being a great sister and thanks for a great visit. I miss you already.