How does one measure success? (Well, by success. Sorry, cousins.)

Oh Hey, Bianca and BAILEY!

Oh em eff gee! This is my first combined email. Let me just take a moment to welcome Bailey! Welcome, Bailey! I’m so glad you finally saw the light that Lord and Savior Al Gore has been talking about and have adopted your very own, brand spankin’ new, totally awesome and earth saving Prius! Woot to you!

Note: Girls, since this is now a thread, remember to hit reply ALL! (Unless you don’t mean to, let’s not make this messy.)

I’m back from the trip with Algebra to Denver! I love that city. We were able to see my favorite cousin, Algebra’s favorite cousin and my favorite Aussie. All was good. We even made it to the Air Force Academy to see the Utes (barely squeak in a) win! Woot! I’m home for the next 10 days so you better relish your email time before Algebra and I jet off to Chicago.

So last night my parents picked us up from the airport and my mother was in a tizzy. Her crazy older brother has hurt her feelings again. And there is nothing I hate worse than hurting mom’s feelings (even though it seems like I do it all too often), but that’s my job. I’m the spoiled, only child and she’s MY mom, if I snap at her because I’m having a bad week, she had it coming (fair enough) … she gave birth to me. But when someone else does it…  WATCH OUT! Things are going to get ugly!

Like most normal families, we are extremely competitive. This is normal right? (If not please pretend to make me feel better). We love each other a lot, but sometimes, I dare say, most of us like winning more. In the past few years winning in the cases of my aunts, uncles and parents means having the most successful child. Without fully delving in to my awesomeness, lets just say in a nutshell, I have my sh*t together. Which is something some of my other cousins, well, don’t (yet).

This kills my aunts and uncles and inspires competition of other means (like who can make who cry first at a family party). Not saying *most* of my cousins aren’t equally successful, some of them just missed the “get your life together ship” and have been stuck on a dock ever since. It’s really not that big of a deal. When we’re pushing 40 and they are still comfortably sitting on said dock, then we have an issue. But considering we’re all twenty-somethings, who cares?! (My aunts and uncles do, actually. Quite a bit.)  

In any event, being that I am an only child, I have no idea about the dynamics of a brother/sister relationship. I have no idea why my mother, the loudest human being on the face of planet, turns into this measly, meek, bowl of tears person over a silly issue. {Sigh.} And both of you ladies have older brothers, do you have any advice for me to
give to my sad mama?

Other things that I don’t know about being an only child:
(Note: I think I’m the most un-only child of the only children we know. But then again that might be an only child delusion.)
   – How to share (my friends, my time, my margarita, etc)
   – How anyone can possibly have a point of view that differs from my own. (Hello, Republicans? Wtf.)
   – How to fully express my feelings (although this might be more because I’m a Libra).
   – Why my parents would want to do anything besides bask in the glory that is their only daughter (cue halo and choir).

Welp! Off to go make more sun shine out of my ass,
Bridget

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1 Comment

Filed under Bridget

One response to “How does one measure success? (Well, by success. Sorry, cousins.)

  1. I’m an only child too—and don’t know how to share anything, including my feelings.

    -L

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