It was 39 Years Ago...featuring guest bloggers

I asked my sister and my mom to write about me (a narcissistic exercise with some level of emotional risk) and look at the greatness they created:

Mom said:

April 19 had come and gone and so had the Kentucky Derby three weeks earlier. That Thursday afternoon, I walked from room to room in our apartment scanning the empty living room, the stretch of carpet with no furnishings in the dining area, the den devoid of any objects, and the bare kitchen. Not even stale bread or spoiled milk in the refrigerator. Neatly laid out on the floor of the bedroom just where the bed had been for the last two years was a double sleeping bag, a couple of pillows, my novel on one side with a flashlight and Clyde the country cat nestled in the center of the sleeping bag.

Our belongings all were on a moving van rumbling to Philadelphia and everything was in order as planned except that the baby due on April 19 was still not born (but lively). Plans were set for a Friday (next day) afternoon flight to New Jersey, a waiting obstetrician and pediatrician thanks to an anxious grandmother and an appointment for a 6:30 am date with my regular obstetrician and distant cousin pediatrician at Louisville Baptist Hospital for Mom and expected and LONG-awaited baby the next morning.

5:30 am—awake reluctantly, but eager to see what adventure might be in store for us that day, baby sprung into action providing me with contractions about 20 minutes apart (okay, I am making that up because I don't remember). We headed out, stopped for a cup of tea—actually, a leisurely cup of tea, so I would be having closer contractions so I could tell my doctor I didn't need to be induced—and went to the hospital where at 1:30 that afternoon, May 23, (Not-so) Cynical Knitting Daughter a wailed into life—and she surely was worth the wait.


My sister (aka Teddy) said:

My big sister is my resource for hair and beauty tips, as well as sanity tips. She is my go-to woman when my two little girls want something done to their hair because I generally have no idea what they are talking about. She taught me how to put on make-up from Seventeen magazine - and I still do my make-up that way. She is also always ready to listen - and is quite good at it. She has an uncanny ability to read into what I am feeling and validate it, very few (if any) people can do that.

I guess that is what happens when you spend the first 5 years (maybe more) of your life following your big sister around.

Margaret Mead said - Sisters is probably the most competitive relationship within the family, but once the sisters are grown, it becomes the strongest relationship. So true.

Special thanks to my guest bloggers: Mom and Teddy ~~clapping and cheers~~

Giving a pass to the new father (my brother), he's got a lot going on these days with that new baby and pending visitors of the familial variety...