tiff

I get pretty tired of writing to tell you how bad thingsare. Because they are rarely gonna be good, and I just hate to be a complainer. I know you would say, oh no it’s ok, everyone needs to vent…..tell you what, you stop by, and I assure you I will vent, tears and all. But right now I just want to keep things complaint free, if possible.

My cousin Tiff is here. I love her to bits, probably because we are so similar. The more I look at her, the more I see pieces of me. Except for the 3+ inches she has on me. She claims 3, I think it is more like 5. It probably depends on which of her gorgeous heels she is wearing.

Last night I could hear her putting new sheets on my bed. I watched her as she folded the laundry. I overheard her comfort Finley when she got soap in her eye (although, it must be said, she was the one to get soap in the said eye.) I listen each nite as she puts the kids to sleep, and straightens up the kitchen.

I just woke up and I can hear giggles and jumping, laughing and screaming as Tiff and the kids play upstairs. She is doing my job right now. She is filling in for me. She is being the mom that I cannot be, bridging the gap.

She has been here to help this week, and the time is slipping too fast through our fingers. I can hardly bear to think about Sunday morning when she boards that rickety little plane in Florence and, if that little guy makes it to Charlotte, she’ll be back in Austin.

It is so much fun to have someone who just gets you. I am blessed to have more than my fair share.

Tiff is one of those people.