Little G

I've recently discovered that nothing makes me feel older than my sister, Stacie's birthday. With said day just around the corner (Feb. 5th), I thought I'd share my thoughts on her upcoming 20st birthday.

Feburary 5th, 1986; ahh yes, I remember it well. I was in second grade and my teacher got a message that my aunt was on her way to get me to take me to the hospital because my little sister had just been born. I remember the first time I held her there in the hospital, with my dad's help of course. There was a bunch of family and family friends all about and everyone was excited. The new baby excitement wore off quickly for me, since I had been the center of attention for 7 whole years and now I had to share. I remember specifically wanting to send her back because I didn't like how hardly anyone was paying attention to me. But those feelings went away, mostly because I realized that there was no option for sending her away.

As the years went by, I got more and more used to her being around. In fact, with the birth of my sister, there was a boom of other babies in our family. Within the next three years, there were 5 kids added to our family. Let me take a minute to point out that I do not mean my immediate family, when I say family. My immediate family consists of my mom, dad, sister and I and the occasional dog and random other family pet. Anyway....

More and more years went by and I decided that I was excited to watch her grow up and see what she would be like. So I watched her grow and go through a variety of character and hairstyle changes. (FYI- our mother was a bit cruel when it came to haircut styles for us; think afro and chili-bowl).

When she was about 5 or 6, she really liked to watch the movie The Princess Bride, to which we started to call her Buttercup. A few years later I got into a phase where I listened to a lot of rap music (most people I know went through this as well) and at some point I decided to call her Little G and she called me Big G. So it sort of stuck and my parents called her that for awhile too. Things progressed, we grew up and she got a job in a restaurant where she somehow wound up with the nickname Cornbread. At this time, I was living in Indy so I really can't say the circumstances around the nickname. She went through a period when she wanted to be called Sam (her initials), and there were a few other nicknames, I've just forgotten them.

Anyway, she graduated high school (despite what my parents thought at times) and has gone on to Ball State University where she's a sophmore studying nursing (at least that's the plan today). It was sort of surreal to do a shot of Goldschlager with her at this past Hallobean. She's grown up to be the prettier sister (see vivblog) with much better taste in clothing, hair and makeup than me. All in all, I'm proud of her and love her no matter what.