#parenting siblings

I consider her my first child. The first one that I sacrificed for, cooked meals for, explained homework to, watched out for. I mourned her when she left for college, proud and strangely sad. I took her crying phone calls when classes were hard. I comforted her, protected her, encouraged her and when others told me this wasn’t how it was supposed to be I ignored them. They didn’t know. Who else was going to be her mother? She’s grown now, we both are, and she has kids of her own. She does the things I did with her, the things our mother didn’t. She bakes Christmas cookies, goes camping, travels, and she cooks them meals, explains their homework and protects them.

I consider her my first child and I am proud as hell of how we both turned out.