Friends Before Family

Tomorrow is my best friend’s birthday. Since I don’t have much money, I bought her a pack of milk chocolate Milano cookies as gift. Not the most special gift, but it is the thought that counts, isn’t it? Plus, she loves anything that’s chocolate. She also invited me to her birthday party tomorrow, which is being held at a local park. It’s a small gathering of friends and possibly her family. I haven’t seen her since the after-graduation party back in June, so I’m definitely going.

To my surprise, my sister got jealous of my gift for Jen. It was a very inexpensive gift, yet you’d think I bought a puppy for Jen’s birthday. Turns out my sister was angry because I didn’t buy her a gift for her birthday last month. Never mind the fact that I’ve bought and made gifts before and they’ve gone unappreciated. My sister expressed that she was angry that I was putting my friends before my family.

Well, that’s not how I thought of it. In my mind, I had simply bought a pack of cookies to be a gift. I wasn’t thinking of putting Jen ahead of anyone. I was thinking only of Jen and what she may like as a gift.

Still, I must admit my sister isn’t wrong. It may be subconscious, but I do think to think of my friends before I think of my family. However, there is a reason for that. The former actually treats me like family while the latter treats me like dirt. Not all the time, I’ll admit, but enough that I find them nearly insufferable. How can I not put the people who have been there for me, helped me, and treated me with kindness since I met them ahead of the people who have driven me to emotional breakdowns, made me feel worthless since childhood, and generally frustrate me? Sure, I’ve known my friends for a much shorter time and they’ve changed over the years, but that doesn’t change those facts.

My friends are not the ones who push religion on me. They are not the ones who put me down. They are not the ones who make fun of my dreams and goals. They are not the ones who treat me unequally to the others. And they are not the ones who use me as a scapegoat.

There is a saying that blood is thicker than water. Besides that being literally true, I found a better saying: Love is thicker than blood. If you’re my family, then that simply means you’re related to me by blood. However, if you’re my friend, that means we like and care about each other, and enjoy each other’s company. We may be related by blood, but it’s irrelevant. I’d rather be connected to someone by a strong bond than merely by blood and DNA.

Mellowing Out

It seems I have more time on my hands than I thought, so I’ve returned earlier.

I’ve talked about my sister a decent number of times on here. In one post, I said I wouldn’t be as annoyed if she visited alone as I am when she comes with Mom. I still think that.

However, it seems Sis has began to mellow out. She’s not as annoying, she’s dropped some of her bad habits, and she seems to get as irritated with Mom’s drama as I do. We also share the same opinion about our science teacher. Hehe.

Although, I think the real test will be when I move back in. We’re still separate. Let’s see how long the peace lasts when we’re under the same roof again.

If She Came By Herself…

I’ve complained a lot about my mom and sister, but it seems I’ve overlooked that only one is the problem: Mom.

Except for not asking first, my sister isn’t much of a problem. Today, she’s been sleeping since she got here due to not feeling well (time of the month).

My mom, on the other hand, has been bugging me since she got here. Complaining, whining about Mother’s Day, gossiping about me behind my back with my grandfather. She’s more childish than my nearly seven-year-old cousin.

I don’t think I’d mind so much if only Sis came. She’s generally quiet. I also don’t understand why Mom couldn’t leave her home alone if she wasn’t feeling well. She’s almost 16. She’s more than old enough to stay by herself for a few hours. I’m even starting to wonder if Mom drags her over here because she never asks to come. Mom’s the one who always me for that.

Sometimes, I forget who’s the parent…

Because the person who is sure doesn’t act like it!

My mom and sister are sleeping at my house…again. It’s ironic I’m moving in with these two, but I guess I’m used to it. Still, I am really getting tired of being used as a back-up plan. Besides their terrible guest manners (my sister drank the juices and ate all the candy and didn’t ask and is now taking up my bed), it’s my spring break. They took my winter break. I didn’t get a moment’s peace. Yet they don’t understand why I don’t want them staying here during spring break.

My mom really needs to start planning for stuff, but of course, she doesn’t. She can’t think ahead. I remember, as a child, how she always forgot things until the last minute, yet complained when my sister or I did it, as if she wasn’t a bad example. Her inability to plan things is the reason for mine and my sister’s existence and the reason we’ve moved so much.

I complain too. I won’t deny that. But one thing I’ve learned to do is consider and plan things ahead. That’s how I’ve reached a lot of my own decisions.

If anything, this has made me all the more determined to find a job and get my own apartment as soon as possible after I leave high school. I don’t care how hard living alone is. It’s better than being somebody’s back-up plan.

15 Years of Being a Big Sister

For me, there are two holidays tomorrow. Independence Day, which celebrates when our country got its freedom and the Declaration of Independence was signed back in 1776. Then, my little sister’s 15th birthday.

Yep. Tomorrow marks 15 years of hell!

Okay, not really. But it is my sister’s 15th birthday tomorrow. I went out and bought two shirts as a birthday gift. Truthfully, being a big sister is not easy and I’m not sure if it ever gets easier. I love my sister, but she is a (literal) huge pain. Bratty, hard-headed, a general nuisance. Yeah, she’s a younger sibling alright. She was pretty cute when she was younger, but now…meh.

The worst thing about being an older sibling? Having to take partial responsibility for someone whose existence is not your fault. If I had to count the number of times I heard “you’re the oldest, you should know better” or “you’re supposed to set an example”, I’d need about twenty more hands. I always envy only children. I would’ve loved to grow up without having to share my toys, only to have them returned to me broken. To have gotten peace and quiet and not fight over whose space is whose. To not be used as a babysitter. Well, at least I have moving out to look forward to for all of that.

The best thing about being an older sibling? Well, I can’t pinpoint one “best” thing, but there are some pretty great ones. My sister happens to be a big eater, so if I ever didn’t want my dinner, there was my little bottomless pit. She would eat it. If we were ever together in a group, such as summer camp, and I wanted to be left alone, she could direct everyone away since she’s an extrovert. And if I ever did want a new toy, I guess that’s when her breaking my stuff came in handy.

If I wanted children, I would only have one. I’m sure my sister and I drove our mother insane with our constant fighting. The only time we would team up together would be to argue against her. Yeah, not something I’d be willing to put up with.

Ah, siblings. Can’t stand them. Can’t live without them (once they’re already born).