Like all the best families, we have our share of eccentricities,
of impetuous and wayward youngsters and of family disagreements.
Elizabeth II

Okay, after much rambling about the chosen family that is my friends,
I realised that I don’t actually have anything about my biological family on here.
If you’re expecting some lengthy angst ridden whinge about why that is,
you should head back to your adolescence because you won’t find anything like that here.
Nor will you find some Brady-Bunch inspired lovefest of dedications to my wonderful mother and father.
My family fitted into that lil grey area in between those two extremes...

The Mother-child relationship is paradoxical and, in a sense, tragic. It requires the most intense love on the mother's side, yet this very love must help the child grow away from the mother and to become fully independent.
Erich Fromm

:: Mom ::
My relationship with my Mom was pretty much average while I was growing up… I had a closer affinity to her than I did to my Father, but we still had the sulks and the fights. That all changed when I was 15, when we both went through something together and it brought us closer together than I ever thought we could be. Since then, we haven’t had a single fight; we hardly even disagree. I don’t know… maybe we realised how similar we were during that time… but whatever it was that changed, she’s now one of the coolest people I know, simply because she raised me to be an individual and to live my life for myself, and no one else.

He opened the jar of pickles when no one else could. He was the only one in the house who wasn't afraid to into the basement by himself. He cut himself shaving, but no one kissed it or got excited about it. He took lots of pictures ... but he was never in them.
Erma Bombeck

:: Dad ::
I’m old enough to get married without parental consent, drink, drive, smoke,
gamble, travel anywhere alone, move out, stay up late and live my life for me,
and yet I’m still called my Dad’s Little Baby Girl.
I guess that’s just the ways with Dads, eh?
My Dad is pretty cool. He’s the biggest computer geek I know, which is handy because it was him
who introduced me to the Internet a few years ago and got me hooked.
He also gets on great with my friends, and never fails to make me laugh,
simply because he is just insane. Seriously.
It still feels like I’m struggling to show him that I’m no longer the cute little girl
with chubby cheeks and blonde curls, and we argue about it bitterly, but I know that
he has faith in me, and is proud of me, and that’s all that matters.

Sisters is probably the most competitive relationship within the family,
but once sisters are grown, it becomes the strongest relationship.
Margaret Meed

:: Louise ~ Big sis ::
Well, one of them anyways. At five/four years older than me (depending what time of year it is) she has never failed to exercise her rights to say things like “Don’t boss your elders,” blah blah blah. Our sibling fights are infrequent but loud… expect much cursing, slamming of doors and more bitchiness than anyone could stand, but we’re always friends again afterwards. We get along great, we always have. Sharing the same taste in everything from music to social activities, we always have a laugh. And I’m always the first person she turns to when she needs a babysitter. ~s~

If you don't understand how a woman could both love her sister dearly and want to wring her neck at the same time, then you were probably an only child.
Linda Sunshine

:: Elle ~ Middle sis ::
Growing up, this girl and I were the best of friends. When I was falling out of trees, she was the one doubled over laughing. When I was partaking in some great adventure that I was convinced was a good idea at the time, she was the one pointing and laughing as it inevitably backfired. But we got on great and my best childhood memories are the ones I spent with her. Then we grew up, and sadly, apart. For along time we weren’t that close… we hardly spoke, not because we were sulking at each other, but simply because we just didn’t have that much in common. It’s a shame. And we may have had more fights than hot dinners, but that doesn’t mean anyone can gripe about her. No matter whether we’re fighting or not, I’m still fiercely protective over her and always will be.
A couple of years ago I almost lost her and that made me realise a lot. We don’t fight so much anymore.
I still miss the Elle I grew up with, though.

:: Amy ::
At a sprightly, mischievous four years old, this is the newest addition to our family… Louise’s daughter, my niece Amy-Louise. From the moment I first held her, when she was just 20 minutes old, we’ve been pretty much inseparable whenever we’re together. Even though she still tuts, shakes her head, rolls her eyes to the ceiling and mutters “Silly Auntie Rae,” when we goof around, she’s adorable and I love her to bits and its best not to even get me started talking about her because I have a tendency to ramble on and on...


Amy picks her own clothes, can you tell? ~l~

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