January 17, 2013
In my family, we like to joke that my generation of cousins were raised like siblings, but it’s true. There are nine of us on my dad’s side of the family, born within 10 years. This means that even though I don’t technically have sisters, I still grew up with “sisters”. My brother is the oldest, but the oldest girl cousin is only three months younger than him. (I’m cousin number five, smack dab in the middle. I say this is the reason I have both middle and youngest child characteristics.)
I’ll get back to that. Because I’m pretty much caught up on writing blog posts. (Yes, I still procrastinate and will get a few days behind, but nothing compared to the months’ and months’ worth I wrote back in November.) Anyway, because I am pretty much caught up on writing blog posts, I forget about where my public life is. I mean, as far as I’m concerned, I’m pregnant. As far as the world knows, we haven’t even tried yet. I do proofread what I wrote before I publish it, but I don’t think much about it beyond that. Well, I recently published the post about family dinner and the letter from the anonymous (to all of you) relative. You may recall that at the end I mentioned a cousin who has three children and is a single mom. She would be that oldest girl cousin I mentioned in the first paragraph.
And she was angry when she read that post. She doesn’t understand how everyone in the family can be fine with how she got pregnant but not okay with how I’m trying (and succeeding! except, of course, she doesn’t know about the success yet). And she sent me a long email to let me know how much she loves and supports me.
And suddenly, I was on an elementary school playground, and the bullies were picking on me, and my big sister swooped in to beat them up.
Okay, not really. From her email, it sounded like I did a good enough job not offering identifying characteristics that she doesn’t know who the letter came from. (And, yes, I have no intention of revealing my source. Call me Woodward and Bernstein and the letter writer Deep Throat.) Which is good. As previously stated, that’s not important. It’s in the past.
But it is nice to know that my big sister, even if she’s technically just my cousin, is ready to jump to my defense and beat up the schoolyard bullies.
P.S. I know yesterday’s post whined about morning sickness. Really, I am happy that I’m pregnant. I’m just really sick. Getting up in the middle of the night because I have to throw up is getting old.