Anyway--you know how I'm really awesome? I am. REALLY awesome. Well, pretty awesome, anyway. But definitely not even close to as awesome as my little sister, Céline. She's 2 years younger than I (that really is grammatically correct, I promise. Because you wouldn't say, "2 years younger than me am." That's just goofy. It's "2 years younger than I am," and then you drop the "am." I agree that it does sound a little pretentious. I don't make the rules, but, by golly, I follow them. And also enforce them as much as possible). She is superior to me in every conceivable way. I'm not even kidding you. She's like Melissa version 2.0. It's as though my parents created me, realized they could do a lot better, figured out all my glitches and bugs, hammered them out, and then produced her with a cleaned-up, souped-up gene cocktail.
Here's what she looks like:
Isn't she pretty? (That's her youngest, Zachary, sitting on her lap gnawing on her [stylish] purse strap. He's adorable, too, huh?) See how stylish and perfectly accessorized she is? How even Zachary's eyes and clothes coordinate with her ensemble? That's just how she rolls. She oozes--or maybe just exudes--classic style and grace. And, as further evidence of her awesomeness, look where she is. The cafeteria at IKEA. At least that's what it looks like to me. (I didn't take this picture. I e-mailed her and told her to send me a couple pictures, and she did. Sometimes she does what I tell her. But mostly I do what she tells me. She's a little intimidating.) I started salivating as soon as I saw the tell-tale IKEA signs in the background. Great style and selection at amazing prices tends to do that to me. Which reminds me--one of Céline's innumerable gifts is bargain-hunting. The girl knows how to SHOP! She finds the best deals on the most amazing things, from clothes and accessories to home décor. She re-purposes and embellishes and re-paints to take a thrift-store find from junky to fabulous. You should see her house! So, SO pretty--even down to the playroom in the basement. I wish I had pictures.... She has amazing vision, and every room in her house is fun and unique--and created entirely by her blood, sweat, and perfectly salted tears (interesting side note: she does have 2 faulty tear ducts, just in case you were wondering if she's entirely perfect. Oh, and she needs glasses or contacts to see clearly. That's one thing my parents didn't improve on--I've got 20/20 vision). Also, she sews. I sew, too, but she SEWS. She's really good at it, and the stuff she sews doesn't look AT ALL like one of her kids did it. She makes dresses and Halloween costumes and curtains. AND SHE FINISHES THEM--in contrast, I have about 523 projects in various stages of completion, but not one of them is finished.
So, anyway, here's a photo of her family:
Have you ever seen a more adorable family? No, you have not.
And check out this photo of just her cute kids:
Cute, cute, cute, and more cute.
So, pretty much our whole lives have played out like this: I take an interest in something and desire it to be one of my talents; Céline also takes an interest in it, and then completely dominates it. For real! That's how it was with track, dance, drama, choir... everything! Our entire childhood was a series of her passing me up in one thing after another. (She even outperformed me in puberty--blossoming earlier and..... more thoroughly than I ever did. [sorry to be so embarrassing, Céline] She's also 3 whole inches taller than I am. Bigger and better all the way around, I tell you!)
This pattern continued even after high school: I dreamed of doing a semester abroad during college, but was too chicken to go for it. Céline dreamed of doing it, and then actually made it happen--she spent a semester at BYU-Hawaii (that's considered "abroad," isn't it? You have to fly over an ocean to get there...). So cool! She was also a lifeguard at Seven Peaks. She got all tan and got to hang out with the equally tan boy lifeguards. I don't tan--I freckle. And I've never had a job as cool as saving lives. A paid job, saving strangers' lives, anyway (I've saved my own family from perilous situations before. Specific examples elude me for the moment, however...).
My point in all of this is...... Well, I suppose it's that, while I spent a lot of time and energy being insanely jealous of my little sister in my younger years, I've grown and matured and come to realize: "Don't be jealous. Use her superior talent to your own advantage. Mwahahaha!" But not like that, in an evil way--in a good, productive way. I can definitely copycat her decorating ideas, and definitely, definitely take her clothes-shopping with me. I suppose I really am old enough and mature enough and definitely wise enough to realize that my little sister being so crazy-talented at so many things is pretty incredible, without feeling jealous or resentful. I can just admire her skill. And I do. I stand in awe of her. She dreams and accomplishes so much. I truly admire her and every stinkin' skill she's developed and honed. She's the greatest daughter, wife, and mother, in addition to being the best little sister. I love that she has my back in any given situation and will either smack me back to reality, or gently comfort and encourage me--whichever I happen to need most. I'm honored and proud to be her big sister, and I'll gladly stand in her shadow any day (It's a pretty large shadow, too--did I mention she's 3 inches taller than I am?). Happy (real or fake) Sisters Week, Céline! I love you!
PS: I should point out that I do realize that I, too, have unique gifts and talents, that I shouldn't compare myself or my talents to my sister and hers, that our parents really do love us equally, etc. I'm just havin' fun.