My baby sister is about to have her first child.  Poor thing.   I love her but am having a hard time being supportive as well as not scaring the shit out of her.  I have not held back my complaints about parenting my own children and cannot imagine why she wants to do it.  I am certain that if I had known what was in store for me I would have thought twice.  And then gotten my tubes tied.

I suggested they get a puppy but she said dogs are a big responsibility and it would be hard to travel. Hmm…when we go out of town we leave our dog here and have neighbors feed and walk her. My children require more attention than two walks and a half a can of food a day.  And you don’t have the option of leaving them in a kennel.

When I first became a parent it was as if I had signed a lifelong contract without reading the job description listing the necessary qualifications. Eggs? Check.  Sperm?  Check.  Nurturing spirit, patience, and kindness?  Wait-what?

I don’t know what I was thinking; I never got along all that well with children even when I was one of them myself. I had heard that children are like a mirror, showing your own true self.  Nobody warned me it could be like one of those fun house mirrors, which takes the worst qualities and exaggerates them.

I married in my thirties and my only friends with children lived far away.  There was nobody close by who knew me well enough to stop me.

Before I knew it I was pregnant. And the next thing I knew I had two little boys.

I blinked and then they were six and nine.

What happened? These past ten years are a blur of diapers, laundry, tears, more laundry and lots of whining.  I’m still not sure what I am doing half the time.

Hasn’t my sister been listening to me?  Has she never watched her own wedding video where my toddler howled through her vows?

Perhaps she can learn from my mistakes. With all of my sage advice she can’t do any worse than I did. If she still wants to go ahead with this, I have no choice but to support her decision.

Of course my biggest fear is that she will not have a hard time.  She will most likely have one cheerful and easy going baby and not two spirited and challenging boys.  She will not need my advice on hiding in various rooms  (or cars) to sleep.  She will not need to revisit my strategies on sibling rivalry.  She will make me look bad by being a more naturally nurturing mother than I ever could be.   It will be obvious that I still don’t really know what I am doing.

But at least I will be an Aunt. I will be able to hand the baby back when he starts leaking.

Not only did she go on to have a charming mellow baby, she went back to her career and fit into her pre-pregnancy jeans in a matter of months. Brat! Of course, I’m just jealous. I’ll let her enjoy this time with her perfect baby; it’s just a matter if time before my sons corrupt him. She blogs weekly at http://www.life360.com/blog/author/cathy/

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