Admitting mistakes and moving on: Thank you, sis.

For as long as I can remember, my younger sister and I have been nearly inseparable. When she was little, she beat me with num-chucks, peed on me, stood on her head when sent to the corner and was otherwise a pain in the ass. But, even when she was annoying me, I thought having a little sister was the greatest.

People used to ask all the time what it was like to be best friends with your sister. The answer was the same then as it is now. Being best friends with a sister means not being able to take the easy way out when you hate each other. You can storm off to another room, but speaking to one another will, at some point, become inevitable. You can pack up and return belongings, but no matter how many boxes she deposits in front of your door, she's still going to be finding your possessions long after the boxes were deposited. You can even move out, but you'll still never be able to avoid her. She's, for better or worse, part of your life. Learning to enjoy it, even when it's not so enjoyable saves time and energy.

And it's not always enjoyable. My sister and I are completely different people. We're both opinionated, strong willed and stubborn. We both inherited variations of the nose, the cheek bones, and the eye lashes. We both talk a mile a minute and find the most idiotic things insanely funny. We both love shoes, are self motivated, have no tolerance for stupid people and are infuriated by shitty parents. We both love to shop, adore the kids and dream big. But, the similarities end there.

She can't stand silence and I live for it. She's shy and still thrives on being around people. I'm not so shy and can still do without most people. She's conservative, I'm liberal. She rocks out to gospel music; I can't stand half of it. She'd rather avoid confrontation when she can and I'm all for saying what needs to be said and dealing with it. I'm laid back and think everyone should live however they want too. She's not so laid back and can come across as incredibly judgmental. I give advice, she ignores advice. I go with the flow where she stresses and she goes with the flow where I stress. I'm Dharma to her Greg and she's Dharma where I'm Greg.

If we were anything other than sisters, we'd probably have killed each other long ago. But, despite our differences, and that list is infinitely longer than the list of our similarities, we work well together. No matter how angry I may get at her or vice versa, we always make up. We're by no means blind to the others' faults, but we accept them for what they are and learn to deal with them.

When she got pregnant with Aybra, for instance, I was infuriated with her. Not because she isn't a good mother, but because she's a great mother. I didn't want to see her go through another premature birth and was terrified out of my mind that the baby might not survive. And because she is a great mother, I was terrified that if it came to that... she wouldn't survive either. The kids are her entire life, losing one would break her.

And she knew from the moment she found out she was pregnant again that I would be infuriated. I think she was equally as mad at herself. But, you can only beat yourself up for so long before you realize that it is what it is and you deal with it. She didn't intend to get pregnant again, but she messed up. And she took responsibility for it. At the time, I didn't really appreciate that.

I argued that she was irresponsible. And in a way, I was right. It was irresponsible to get pregnant again, especially knowing the risks. But, the irresponsibility stopped there. And I can appreciate that now in ways I didn't even a year ago.

She's 23, in college and the single mother of three kids. And where most people would (and often do) shake their heads and say how idiotic she is, I can't help but admire her where a year ago I wasn't even speaking to her. Not because she's my sister or even because she's my best friend. But because at 23, she's managed to do what so many twice her age still haven't figured out. Admit when she's made mistakes and then move on.

Family and friends always question her decision to keep and raise three children virtually on her own. She's never questioned that decision. She knew going in that it would be hard. She knew it would be even harder with Alo. But, she's done it and she's done it well. She's learned to juggle being a mother, a college student, a nurse, a pre-school teacher and an advocate. What most will never do, she does daily without complaining. She gets stressed. She gets tired. But, giving up has never been an option for her.

When things get tough, most people don't know how to deal. They avoid. They ignore. They run in the other direction. They don't keep fighting. She hasn't stopped fighting from the moment Kaia was born. Every day presents a new challenge, but she still greets each new day unresentful at what previous days have brought.

And no matter how much she may irritate me or how much I may disagree with her on some things, I can't help but be proud of her. Even when I'm furious at her and wanting to shake her until she sees things my way, a little part of me cheers her on. She caters to no one, caves to no one and cares not a bit what others think of her and her decisions. She's 5'4" of mother dragon and I've never been so proud of her in my life.

She and the kids will be moving 60 miles away this spring and I can't help but think that if I've learned anything by living under the same roof as her these last four years... it's that I hope to one day be capable of half as much as a mother, as a woman, and as a friend as she has been daily for four and a half years.

I mentioned in a post a while ago that heroes are the ordinary people that still manage to teach you who you want to be; the people that touch our lives, our hearts, our minds and our dreams simply by being who they are. Khourtniey may be a huge pain in the ass and we may never see eye to eye, but she's definitely taught me who I want to be simply by not being afraid to be herself.

Young mothers don't have it easy, but if I'm half the mother at 30 that she is at 23... I will be blessed. So, I guess what I am saying is thank you Khourtniey, though you will probably never read this, for proving every single day that young mothers can be the best kind of mothers, that being yourself is always enough and that taking responsibility is just as important as being constantly responsible.

There is a difference and sometimes, the most important lesson you can learn is just what that difference means. I'm glad you're the one that taught me that even though you probably thought I'd never figure it out. And I'm happy to know that no matter how much we might disagree, at the end of the day, I still get to call you my sister... and my friend.