I was the baby in my family for a long time.
About ten years to be exact. From my debut in 1987 until January of 1996, I reigned in my precious princess status. I mean, I was the youngest child on either side, so it was natural that it fall to me. It helped matters that I was on the small side, delicate and dainty, naturally quiet and shy, with enormous brown eyes and a slightly terrified air about me. I was always sucking on my thumb and carrying a half-bald rabbit stuffed animal, and doing endearing things like falling asleep inside suitcases. Basically, I was adorable and I knew it.
For those nine golden years, I luxuriated in the attention and adoration, particularly that of my Uncle Robbie. Uncle Robbie was the baby of his own family, the youngest sibling and only boy on my mother’s side (not counting cousins), cute and and friendly likeable. I was his baby girl, the one that would curl up in your lap and just sit quietly, snuggling. I was rather pleased with my position in life.
And then she came along.
First, my Aunt Cindy had to go and get pregnant. Without even consulting me, no less. Worse still, she had a GIRL. A little female child that could not have been more different than me if Aunt Cindy had put in a specific request to God. She had fat blonde curls and heavily-lashed blue eyes and deep dimples in her round little cheeks. She was like the chubbiest, most perfect little baby doll, natural sunshine radiating out from her laughing, happy demeanor.
Comparatively, I felt like Gollum.
I did not personally care for this angelic usurper. Everyone thought she was soooo great and wanted to hold her and look at her and talk about her and nobody was paying attention to me anymore. The icing on the cake, my Uncle Robbie LIKED her. He was supposed to be on my side, dangit! But he was holding this chunky, pasty milk-ball like it was pleasant.
Suffice to say, I was displeased with the whole turn of events.
When given the option, I spent limited time with it. As soon as the baby entered the room, I hunched away, hissing under my breath. My mother is all about the babies, so I was quite often expected to remain in its presence. No one expected or asked me to hold it; I think they assumed I might intentionally drop it, based on the scowl on my face.
So obviously, I am being dramatic for comedy’s sake. A little.
As Jessica got older, my hostility waned. I even stopped referring to her as “it”, I am proud to say. I have discovered that being territorial is a bit of the uglier side of my nature, one that I have to consciously manage. Amber was always closer to the cousins while she was younger; would you believe that I am not exceptionally great with kids? Having three of my own has improved the situation, but I was not exactly being begged to babysit.
My sister, Amber, however was a born nurturer. She was the one that cared for the newborn kittens, the baby birds that fell out of their nest. (I was more of the “sucks to be you” camp regarding abandoned creatures that were not cats.) She worked at nurseries and helped teach Bible classes. A lot of her practice came from being an older sister to me, so I contributed in some way.
When she watched kids, you knew she was going to do a good job--mature, responsible, fun. She had activities planned, played games with the kids, sang songs and made them laugh. I kept them alive. So, you know...there was that.
I was probably more suited to watching fish than children.
There wasn’t a ton of bonding between me and the six little cousins as they grew. I can’t imagine what they thought of me. Probably that I was scary and weird. If I met me at that point, I would find myself scary and weird. In my teenage years during family events, I was difficult (if not impossible) to find--as soon as I thought I could get away with it, I skulked away to hide and read.
(Letting you in on a secret of mine: at Granny’s house, which was loud and always bustling with many people, I found a special spot where no one could find me. There was a small tear in the back of the couch upstairs in the playroom; I would slither in through that hole and hide in the inside of the couch where there was plenty of light to read and I could hear the voices in the rest of the house. I would stay in there until my mother’s voice started to get annoyed--never panicky because she knew I was *somewhere*--and then I would make my grand reentrance.)
It wasn’t until Jessica was in High School maybe that I started paying real attention to her again. She was starting to become interesting to me, someone I could possibly hang out with. Which sounds callous, I know. I’m not super with people. Anyways, we started to get to know one another, hesitantly.
Would you believe she was actually pretty alright??
It had annoyed me when she was younger that she was by far more clever than I was. She was such a smart kid, and as someone that prided herself on being a Smart Kid, it irked me that she was so bright. Now that we were both older, it made her witty, thought-provoking. And you know, she actually made some really good points.
I shouldn’t talk about her in past tense, as though she is no longer these things. In June 2015, I moved to Abilene; in August, she started going to the same university Michael works at, attending classes almost precisely across the street from where we live. I guess that would make this her second semester of sophomore year. Twenty years and I am finally getting to know her.
She is so cool, you guys.
She comes to our house as often as I can tempt her over here with free food. The kids love her; blessedly, she is not like me in her deference to young people. She is funny and dorky and into the same things that we are, like Magic the Gathering card game, D&D, and video games. Her major is some smartsy computer thing that Michael would be able to tell you more about than I could. I still somewhat believe that computers run on straight magic.
Last Saturday was my big Walk, the one that I have been talking about and stressing about and working on, the one I have been bothering every person alive about. With everything else on her plate, Jess came and stayed the entire time, working right next to me. That’s just who she is--a sweet, kindhearted person that is always there, always willing to help.
That is all this is: a straight Jessica appreciation post. She is going through finals right now, probably a little stressed, though you would never know it because she is still the sweetest, smilingest person you’d meet. I am so proud of everything that she has accomplished, everything she is becoming.
All things considered, I’m pretty glad she’s my cousin.
--Andie
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