I love all of my siblings but I am OBSESSED with my baby brother and sister. Obsessed.
Becoming a big sister at 22 is a bit manic. Billy and Grace brought our sibling tally to five this January, a week after my birthday.
The closeness of our birthdays (birthDAYs not years,drain) has led to what people probably find funniest about the entire thing - that I’ll turn 40 a week before they’re even 18.
You’re all gas, thanks.
I’ve wanted to write about being a really big sister for ages and ages but when you actually stop and think about how mind-boggling the whole thing is, it takes a while to get your thoughts in order. I mean, it's not that mind-boggling, I just got two little tots who I just want to be around the whole time but I guess what I mean is that it doesn't exactly happen to everyone.
I suppose the main thing is everyone has moved down two slots in my list of favourite people and it’d take a lot to claw your way back up to this pair’s ranking.
Obviously I love babies but having two in your own house is next level deadly.
Don’t get me wrong - their bodily functions can get grim - but if anything it’s only increased my capacity for forgiveness.
Seriously, you wouldn’t believe the amount of baby vom that’s landed on my bare feet these past few months, nothing could phase you.
On the upside, it’s two totally innocent little souls us original three can plague with our obsessions. It's open season.
Hence why their poor mother arrives back downstairs to find us three absolutely belting Sound of Music classics at the pair of them - I’ve almost got that family choir I’ve always wanted. Eibhin and Daire were never quite willing enough to participate in my “shows” when we were kids.
You’d be half convinced your friends are only sticking around so they can keep getting Snapchats of them. That said, their selfie game is coming along well.
At the same time, it was always going to be a bit emotional. I couldn’t wait for them to arrive, number one - purely for them to arrive and number two - to actually process it all.
And it’s such a happy situation - such a lovely, lovely feeling to be their big sister - but I knew, like anything big that has happened in the last few years, I will inevitably have one massive cry, just because.
Exposed to that particularly attractive moment was our brilliant stepmum, a week after giving birth, with one baby at home and up and down everyday to one still in neonatal.
When the time came to head back to Dublin after meeting baby Grace, so did the tears. And they didn’t stop for a while - you know me.
I’ll remind her of that at their 18th birthday - when I’m 40 you’ll recall. I’ve forgotten half the things I wanted to say, but if I don’t press Publish now, I never will.
Although if Dad’s latest text is anything to go by, there should be plenty of episodes during the unfolding saga of the crawling twins to share.The end of the world is nigh, he reckons.
On a side note, trying to resurrect this blog has not been easy.
Back in college it was a way to get a feeling of achievement that you’d “done” something and a good way to write down all of the bizarre and mainly silly thoughts I had on the world, but publishing your thoughts - no matter how many or how few people are going to read them - is always scary.
It would be easier not to, easier not to be honest, easier to be mortified of yourself, but in truth I always liked it and just needed a bit of a push get it going for the umpteenth time.
So let’s try this again!
