Digital Story

 

Authors Statement:

In this digital story I hope to convey to the audience that having a younger sister is exciting at the beginning, gets a little annoying in the middle, and gets much better later on in life. I think it’s important to show how it’s not always fun going from being an only child to having a sister that you suddenly have to share the spotlight with; and that’s okay. Children are not perfect, and it’s unreal to expect them to be and to be accepting to every new thing that comes their way and a new human to share mom and dad with are no exception. But in the end, it will all turn out right. So thanks, Mom, for never listening to me when I asked a million times if we could “take her back to the hospital.” Skylar has become my greatest blessing in disguise.

 

Transcript:

See the little girl On the ground? That’s me. And the woman pulling me? That’s my aunt. The day is July 3rd, 2000 and my sister was just born in the middle of Chicken Run, which resulted in my aunt dragging me from the theater in the middle of the movie to go meet my new kid sister that I didn’t even want.

It all started when my mom and dad told me I was going to be a big sister by giving me a t-shirt that said “world’s greatest big sister” on it. For the first few months I was extremely excited at the idea of having a little sister. I was asking my mom every day if she was on her way yet. As time progressed, however, the idea of a little sister became less and less appealing. It completely peaked when I was moved out of my room into the guest room to turn my room into the nursery because it was bigger.

My mom went into labor late July 2nd. I was awoken by my aunt in my new, smaller room and told to get dressed because we were going to the hospital to welcome my new sister. The hospital was cold, empty, and dark. With it being a holiday weekend, we were pretty much the only ones there besides the nurse checking people in; even the doctor had to be called in for delivery. Since there was no one in the waiting room, my six year old self was all over everything. For a few hours my aunt and I played “lava” where the floor is lava and to get around you can only climb on furniture, until the secretary told us to stop or we had to leave. My aunt tried to buy some time by feeding me sugary sweet snacks from the vending machine, only fueling my need to move and not sit still. Then she suggested a movie to buy some time since we had been there for what felt like forever.

We got to the movie theater with the smell of buttery popcorn making me forget that my mom was actually in excruciating pain just 10 minutes away and settled into our seats for the afternoon showing of Chicken Run. About halfway through the movie my aunt gets a text and her pocket lights up and is buzzing. It’s my grandma, informing us that Skylar has made her entrance to the world. My aunt told me it was time to go, and in response to my protest of wanting to stay and finish the movie she says “your sister is here and you need to meet her now!” and drags me from my over-sized plush chair. Back to this. Once to the car she gives me some speech about how I should be happy that Skylar was born and I should want to meet her and I need to be a good girl for mommy and daddy, or something along those lines as I sat in the backseat pouting because I didn’t find out if the chickens were able to break free. For a seven year old, it’s all in one ear and out the other.

Back at the hospital the place had suddenly come alive. Light was streaming in dusty windows and a hum of excitement poured from the waiting room as family and friends talked about getting to see Skylar soon. I was on the opposite end of this excitement. All of these people here and no one seemed to be paying attention to me like everyone had been for the seven years previous to this moment.

My initial meeting of Skylar was a loud one. She would not stop screaming, tears streaming down her face for absolutely no reason. My mom asked if I wanted to hold her, to which I replied by turning my back to her bedside. Soon though, we went home. And the screaming didn’t stop. Mom and dad were up all night with Skylar, cooing her and rocking her and trying to get her to stop. But she never did. Mom and dad were exhausted, my aunt was gone, and I was left to play on my own for the first time in seven years and I blamed Skylar for all of it.

5 years later Skylar has perfected the art of screaming any time I would merely touch her making mom and dad come running to her aid and scolding me in the process with her devious little smile over their shoulder as they take her from the room leaving me in time out. Her antics continue as time progresses.

10 years later Skylar and I can actually start to be in the same room for more than 10 minutes without a total meltdown; but the time is fleeting and a fight is bound to ensue. I was 17, Skylar was 10, and she was always in my room when I wasn’t home; one of my biggest pet peeves. What was worse? She always took my clothes so I couldn’t find anything I needed.

Now, as Skylar is 16 and I’m tuning 23 shortly, we’ve gotten closer. We bake cookies together a lot, but not without arguing if that dough ball is too big or if the oven is on the right temperature. We’re sisters and bound to fight, but we’re getting better and I’m sure we’ll continue to grow closer as we get older. Only time will tell if she’ll remain the annoying little sister and I the prideful oldest child.