My sister has had a shit year. A shit decade, to be honest. Her husband has some rather major issues and is no longer living with the family. He is not allowed to see his two kids (16 and 11 year old girls) and his life is falling apart. My sister has had a tough row to hoe but she’s definitely come out on top.

(applause)

Now, given that, she’s also being a bit of a jackass. She’s still got a lot of stress (single mom! money! laundry! dishes! ack dating!) and she’s taking some stuff out on her 16 year old. A 16 year old who is a downright remarkable girl. This is a kid who reads an entire book in one day and spent three days last summer baking cookies to give to homeless shelters. Just because her and her friends thought it would be a nice thing to do. No one told them to do it. They just did it.

So what the hell? Why is my sister so hard on her? So critical and hard to please? Granted, the kid forgets to to the laundry sometimes and might not do the dishes one night becuase she’s pissed at you and wants to make a point. The child KNOWS what her father has done, she KNOWS everything and has been given load no child should ever be asked to carry. She’s coping well but holy shit, mom, help a kid out. Don’t crap on her head every time you see her.

It’s a case of stress affecting behavior on both sides. My sister isn’t completely recovered herself and has never, to be honest, been very good at considering how other people feel. There is nothing to which she is not central. When the Queen of England takes a shit the backward swirl of her toilet gives my sister a headache.

I’m always somehow in the middle of it when my sister’s life takes turns. She bobs, I weave, we wind our way through the minefield that is her perceived existence. I’m happy to do it because otherwise, frankly, people would be losing limbs and whatnot. I offer my advice and give direction intended to feel gentle but meant to be absolute and as I do so I take personal stock of my own life, my own actions.

I hate the way she treats her teenager. I hate it with every breath I take. This child was the first among my siblings. I remember when she was born as though it was a few weeks ago. I still see in her the possibilities of a future unmarked by the mistakes of her family. I am angered that she is being treated the way she is and it makes me really think. How often have I let my own moods, fears, stresses, anxieties etcetera affect how I treat my own kids? Could I revisit my own behavior to see if there is perhaps room for improvement. Because anyone giving advice had better been willing to take it themselves else they have no business opening their mouths.

Every step along my sister’s path has been a learning experience for me as well. I have expectations of her that I must also demand of myself. I respect her need for moments of weakness that I must also be willing to grant myself (and those around me).

I hate that my sister is being an asshole but if she wasn’t I probably wouldn’t be thinking about how I’ve been treating my own kids and I may not have taken the time to give them a picnic on the driveway today. I’m not feeling well and probably would have put them in front of the TV and asked them to leave me alone. It’s thanks to my sister I remembered to think beyond myself and be the mom I mean to be and not the mom I am by circumstance and accident. I’m grateful for that. So are my kids.