Happy Birthday, Meg!

23 years ago my parents brought a little something home...my sister, Meghan Rebekah Bristow. She was a loud, laughing baby with big cheeks, big curls and even bigger blue eyes. I appreciated this briefly. I soon stuck her in a baby carriage of mine and proceeded to try and walk out the door. My mom stopped me and asked, "Where are you going?" My reply? "I'm taking her back to the hospital." I had had enough.

yeah...I'm over this big baby.

I'm not sure when we started fighting, but I can remember it from a very young age.  This boisterous toddler would tear apart my beloved possessions and could not be quiet to save her life. When we played games she would quit, right before the end, if she knew she wasn't going to win. The nerve! She never played Barbies the right away. And she didn't show the proper reverence of her American girl dolls.

Who knew she'd end up the blonde?

What was worse? We were forced to dress alike allthetime. Apparently we were just sooo adorable that wearing different clothes was out of the question. Oh, and you know how I had to wait until a certain age to wear shoes with the tiniest little platform heel ever? Well little Missy got to wear them the same exact day I did. Oh the injustice of it all!

Curtains, anyone?

My hatred - yes hatred - of her grew the older we got. She copied everything I did - but only when she knew it would annoy me. Stole my clothes allthetime. Would never do anything my way (the right way, of course). She managed to cry on cue every time she wanted me to get in trouble. And it worked like a charm. So much so that she'd sneak me a "ha I win" look as my parents comforted her.

Same outfit in a different color, and same paper-reading. I know you didn't enjoy that!

Once I was in high school things took a turn for the worse. Constantly screaming at each other, locking one another out of the bathroom we shared, and bothering the other when friends were over. You name it, we did it. My parents were legitimately concerned we would grow up and be unable to spend holidays together. It was that bad.

My bachelorette party

Fast forward a few years later, and I'm engaged. My sister would obviously be my maid of honor, even though we aren't really friends. We no longer scream, but then again we don't live together. I was a little nervous about trusting her with this huge job, but I was beyond amazed and grateful for everything she did for me. She was my pitbull when I was stressed and frustrated with someone. She listened to me complain, she gave me a shoulder to cry on, and she made me smile when I needed it most.

Laughing and crying at my shower

And when she had roommate problems, I let her move into my studio apartment with me. Somehow, suddenly, this person who I hated for so long had become my best friend, and we were sharing a room again like we did when we were kids. She still stole my clothes, but we came to a healthy arrangement that didn't involve screaming.:)

Getting me into my wedding dress

 So today, I'm thankful for one of the most important people in my life. I admire your vibrant spirit, fierce love for those special to you, strength, beauty - inside and out, and generosity. You will always be the best sister in the world, and I'm finally thankful God gave you to me.

I love you so much, Meg!

Christmas this year