To a very special sister . . .

... On your special day.

I have a special wish,

and it's this I'd like to say:

Happy Birthday, Jen,

hope it's super fun,

because you're fun AND super,

and unlike anyone.

Wow. When fantastic greeting card poetry rains, it pours. That just oozed right out of me and I could almost not type it fast enough. (Also, I mean that last line in a good way, Jen. You're so "unique." :D)

Anyway, today is the anniversary of my dear sister Jen's birth. And really, she deserves an entire blog dedicated to her, not just a post. But a post it will have to be. We're very close in age, Jen and I, and have been practically attached at the hip since I was born. In the beginning, we fought. A lot. But now there's only love.

As the two girls after a truckload of boys in my family, we sort of received twin-like treatment. We got the same Christmas presents (just in different colors), we got similar clothes, and we have forever been referred to as one entity—"The Girls." Therefore, many things Jen did I was doing at the same time or I was at least there for, so much of our lives has been shared with each other.

Like walking around together at ages 5 and 3 while you were wearing the "Want a little girl? Take my sister." shirt. So, so sweet.

Like lazily watching TBS Saturday afternoons and being totally sucked in to The Elvis Presley Story probably half a dozen times. Even though we didn't really like it and even though it was like 5 hours long, we still felt this subconscious compulsion to finish the dang TV movie.

Like the time you used my chapstick after you gave yourself a hearty dose of Anbesol for a canker and unwittingly numbed my lips.

Like watching hours and hours of Saved By The Bell together.

Like making our own 75-question Saved By The Bell trivia game together.

(Quick! What's the name of the girl in the wheelchair?)

Like the special girl time we shared in the bathroom at Lake Powell. 

Like the time bats dive-bombed our heads one night at Lake Powell.

Like the times you would make weird shadow puppets and tell me fun stories when we shared a room.

Like the time I was headed to the bathroom on campus and you said, "Don't let it squirt on ya!" (After I got over my initial disgust, I realized you meant the motion-activated air freshener that would always hit us right in the face.)

Like writing "no fixing mistakes" letters and emails and laughing hysterically over them.

Like the times you finally agreed to play school with me, only to infuriate me by pretending to be a student named "You." (You was an aggravating student, to say the least. We could never get down to business because You never knew I was talking to her. All plans foiled.)

Like the time I tried to defend you to your nemesis of a junior high teacher and he threw the lesson plan out the window that day and instead put me on trial in front of the whole class. (Okay, so you weren't there for that one, but it involved you . . . heavily.)

Like the time we visited the Roman "threeum."


Like years and years of playing games together: Phase 10 (which you'd always win), gin rummy (which I'd always win), cards on the patio, and the 20+ player, extremely competitive Pictionary games in Monticello.

Like the time we both thought we were supposed to be singing "God Speed the Right" and had to sing at mach 10 to fit all the words in to the wrong tune.

Like the times I led you around campus as though you were blind.

Like the time you went all the way to Polish town with me, even when you were 7 months pregnant, just so I could get some authentic chalka. :D


Oh, I could go on and on, but I guess this probably isn't very interesting for anyone else. I, however, absolutely love it. And you. You've been a top-notch sister (after we got over the arguing phase) and it's been a delight to share so many fun, funny, happy things with you.

And I'm scheduling this post to publish super early tomorrow morning so that it will be there when you're up bright and early on the east coast. Happy Birthday, Jez.

Speggtacular: In which I make reference to yesteryear a lot

This Easter, we tie-dyed some eggs. Using this method . . .

these

plus these

equaled these:

This whole process was a lot of fun. Picking out some 100% silk ties at DI was fun. (Although I ran into a lady there who was going to dye eggs the same way, but she told me she was dying duck eggs, which are bigger and more durable. Jealous.) And we couldn't wait after we boiled these to open up the little bundles to see how they looked. As you can see, they looked really cool and this is probably something we'll keep doing. Also, the yellow tie-dyed egg was a total fail. It came out with some very faint blue lines from the stripes, so we dunked it (along with another dozen) into dye from this:

HIGHLY recommend for parents of young girls. (Keep that in mind for the next 364 days.) This box came with glitter AND sequins. Frankly amazing.

Anna got to participate in not one, not two—no, not even three—but FOUR easter egg hunts. What a little spoiled rotten egg. But she was happy as a clam. And rightly so, Anna. Rightly so.

One highlight for me? Watching Anna hunt with my very own easter egg basket from the days of yore. I just loved that.

Anna and cousins: the one where no one's looking where they're supposed to.

Anna and cousins: The one where Anna's eyes are closed.

on the prowl

Post-hunt: Anna and Porter with the audience

I think Anna probably hunted for and found probably upwards of 50 eggs this weekend, she hunted for her hidden easter basket (which is a beloved tradition also from my youth), and gorged on lots of candy and played with lots of prizes. (The favorite item from her easter basket, by the way? This light-up jewel ring. I just expected it to blink or something, but no—it's like a full-strength flashlight. Good night, I've been blinded a few times.)

We talked about religious things too, which of course is the point, but I also love the candy and the eggs and the hiding and finding so much. It was so magical as a kid and I love getting to see Anna experience that. As I'm now writing way more than I intended, I realize I just might have a stronger affinity than some because all during my growing up years (the aforementioned days of yore), my family organized the neighborhood easter egg hunt. Families would send their dyed eggs to our house Friday night, the neighborhood teenagers would hide them, my parents would reward them with donuts, and then the kids would hunt for the eggs the next morning at the sound of my dad driving around the neighborhood and honking his horn at 8 a.m. (This year, he also started off our small family egg hunt . . . by singing "Give, Said the Little Stream" really fast. You'll have to ask him why.) Anyway, back in the day, some eggs were marked as prize eggs, and when we found a Smith prize egg in our yard, we could take it to the Smiths' house and exchange the egg for a prize. SO fun. I loved being behind the scenes and doing the hunting.

Anyway, the whole weekend (this year—I'm back in 2011) was awesome. Crafts, candy, adventure, total overindulgence . . . who could ask for anything more? And though it was a tad chilly, I'm just thankful it didn't blizzard on us like it does nearly every Easter. It was, in a word, speggtacular.

The Thing Rainbow

I'm not mega crafty. I am a little bit, on occasion, but nothing close to mega. But when I do feel the urge, I especially like to craft with Anna and — let's be honest — sometimes more than she likes it. (But I really think my attention span is just longer.) Anyhow, thinking up projects to do with her is fun. And a few days ago, inspiration struck.

My idea was to cut things out of magazines that are the colors of the rainbow and then glue them onto posterboard in the shape of a rainbow. (This was a fun project AND fitting because Anna is in love with rainbows. I just asked her how much she loves them and she said, "As much as I love all my family and all the people I see." Wow. See? They're a big deal.)

And I think it turned out even cooler than I initially imagined. Presenting — what Anna aptly named — The Thing Rainbow:

And here she is with our work of art.

The Thing Rainbow is now hanging in Anna's bedroom. It's so bright and cheery, I kind of want my own. But good luck finding a huge block of scrambled eggs again or a giant red shoe, I tell myself.

If you want to try this at home, here are a couple things I learned:

• Keep your eyes peeled for purple objects right from the get-go, as they are very hard to come by. It helps if you have some senior-citizen gardening magazines around your house so you can cut out flowers. (It's a good thing purple was the smallest arc, too.)
• Toy catalogs were the most fun for Anna to cut out of and the most colorful. I felt like we hit the jackpot after flipping through some Good Housekeepings and Real Simples.

P.S. This reminded me of another fun idea I purloined from the book "Oodles of Animals" by Lois Ehlert.

The author made all these cool pictures of animals out of paper that was cut into nine basic shapes, using normal scissors, pinking shears, and a hole punch. She said she made them after she studied her favorite animals and their defining characteristics. I think this would be so fun to do with kids. Maybe ones a bit older, like 6+ or something. But anyway, it was cool to see animals pared down to simple, yet unique, graphic shapes, and I loved thinking of the creative possibilities.

More phantom Ashleys

Remember how I keep getting emails intended for a handful of other Ashley Bankses in the world? Well, here are a few more to add to the list. (Actually, I just like having a reason to post the above picture again and again.)

1. Some other lucky Ashley Banks became a member of PETA this week. Good for her. Sad to know she'll be missing out on all those email newsletters. Happy to read about it while I'm wearing my fur coat.

3. I've also gotten a couple evites about a totally legit bachelorette-ish party going on in Florida. Lots and lots of drinks will be involved. I almost want to RSVP and say I'll be attending. Would it be weird to accept the invitation? Sure, it wasn't exactly intended for me, but I did receive an invitation with my exact name on it so they can't turn me away, right?

2. I got another email about an online chat session another Ashley apparently scheduled with the admissions office of a college in Massachusetts. When I clicked to unsubscribe from further emails, it took me to this ominous page that told me I would never receive emails from Mount Blahblah College ever again in my whole life no matter what. It made me second guess my decision to unsubscribe, thinking that the other Ashley Banks might actually want to keep this appointment or go to college and I might be keeping her from her dreams. But then reason took over and I thought, you know what? If you can't even remember your own email address or type it in correctly, you shouldn't be going to college.

Mean, I know. But really?

Full circle(s)

Life has come full circle in two ways lately. Or two circles have come . . . full circle . . . in my life lately. (Whatever.)

First circle: The other day while at the grocery store, Anna was exuberantly looking over the jars of pickles when she knocked a big one off the shelf and it shattered all over my feet. (As a side note, when we were assessing the situation after the pickle explosion, the first thing out of her mouth was, "Well, it sure smells good!" That girl loves her some pickles.) Anyway, as I paused to reflect on this momentous occasion and shake pickle-juice glass off my feet, I reminisced about how I was also present when my very own sister broke a jar of pickles at Reams probably 25 years ago. (I think my brother broke one too when he was a kid. What is it with kids and jars of pickles—a rite of passage? (That was for you, Jen.))

Second circle: When said sister was in town recently, our oldest brother was over visiting. He was holding Jen's little boy and then he hoisted little urchin girl Anna up as well, and we took this cute picture (that's his daughter Sydnee in front):

And then THAT reminded us of this picture (I feel like I'm telling an "If You Give a Pig a Pancake" story), which was taken probably 27-ish years ago:

Ash, Dan, Jen, and another sibling's bum—anyone want to claim it?

Awwww . . .  Isn't that fun? And man alive, the fact that I'm talking about remembering things 25+ years ago sounds weird to my ears and makes me feel old. The memories are very, very vague, though, if that means anything. :D