Baby Emmett, left, Vicki, right, 04.06.09
Out of the nine kids in my family, the one just above me is my sister Vicki (or Wicki, Biddies, Wee Wee, Jick, or McJick if you please). Vicki is exceptional at everything she does. (I don't ever get jealous about that or anything). Growing up, she was always the best pianist, soprano, comedian and a true basketball star. Once, our coach in grade school asked me if I could play just "a little more like Vicki." Being that she was the only girl allowed to play on the boys team, that seemed like a pretty hard feat.
Vicki, left, Mindy, right, in the Barley fields at Grandma and Grandpa's ranch (1993?)
When we moved to Spain, Vicki attended our English speaking International school for one year and then gave it the boot, declaring she was switching to a pure Spanish high school (and folks, those schools are brutal).
When I came to college, it was Vicki who registered me for all
my classes and signed me up for the honors program. When I got married and had a baby at the ripe old age of twenty, it was Vicki who watched my baby, enabling me to continue my college education.
She continued to take the world by storm, visiting third-world countries, helping women get micro-loans, delivering babies in Honduras (seriously) and then went on to medical school. Now she is a doctor (a psychiatrist to be exact). She called me from the hospital this week as she was in the delivery room, in labor with her first baby. "I can't stand the way this nurse is talking to me!" she laughed. No doubt she knew more about what to do in the delivery room than her staff. Not trying to brag, but she really is so smart! Don't you ever feel such immense pride over your siblings?
Congratulations Vicki! You're going to be an amazing mother--just as long as you don't treat Baby Emmet the way we treated our Cabbage Patch Kids (a.k.a. CPK abuse).
Mindy, left, Vicki, right -- always hilarious (1984?)