Three peas in a very unnatural pod.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about childhood, and specifically my own siblings whom I’ve witnessed since birth. Chelsea as a child was an odd little thing. I was an overly social butterfly, I took mental escapes to my room where I would cover the floor with paintings, and Mom had the summers off so naturally I was constantly working on my career to become a Jamaican. My parents cut the ties of matrimony before I had a memory of their attempt at normalcy as a couple. As a result, while playing “house” with my friends who gave themselves titles as mom with baby; I was the single, gypsy that dealt with the inner turmoil of possibly wanting a child of her own but couldn’t risk the potential writer’s block.

Oh how things changed the second my baby brother came into this world. I went from cutting the hair off my Barbies and asking Grandma why the Ken doll only had a concerning bump in his crotch to absolutely melting over this little boy that was only a sliver of me. Ethan is the absolute definition of cool. I tried to train him by telling him never to cut his hair, to stand on every surface that signifies a board and to play hockey, by all means, play hockey. That kid comes alive on the ice and brushes off dramatic apocalypse as if the world was his for just today. He’s my cup of coffee on a rainy day and one day he’ll thank me for how naturally unruffled he is ;)

Now, Ethan may have taken a Thor sized hammer to the caging that I built around my heart when I decided at 12 years old that I was not to be shared or reproduced…but then this new thing, this stunning, spitfire, overly animated thing entered my world. Her name is Jolee Anna. My sister was by far the most beautiful thing I had ever seen the day she was born. I didn’t know perfect existed, but she was perfect. Her whole life she has ran up to hug me every time she has seen me cry. She moves with a grace I have never been able to master and she is the perfect combo of way too girly for my blood and get your hands dirty peculiar. 11 years later she will still drop anything she’s doing when I walk in the door to give me a Lambeau leap of a hug. I cannot take any credit for this one because little girls are alien to me; however I’ve been given a best friend greater than I could have painted up when I was young and visionary.

I hope that throughout the lives of my pea pod siblings, we will continue to see things we have never imagined seeing. We will hold each other when we break down and we will always promote the path to individual happiness no matter what risk or absurdity. My little clocks…what advice would you give to the tiny souls in your life?...are you doing this yourself?