When the middle bird flies the nest

This 2013 will bring a pretty big change in the family household. My middle/baby sistah has been posted up North, a decent flight away, to launch her new career as an everyday hero (paramedic). How she does this job, or even how she loves this job, baffles me as the sight of blood on a mere episode of Embarassing Bodies makes me feel woozy, she obviously scored my portion of the tolerance genes. Her career choice is admirable, and at such a young age she is set for life making millions every time she clocks on and now living in a cute coastal town similar to that of Summer Bay, myself and the remainder sistah are sitting back in awe of her life falling into place.

But what happens when the first sistah flies the coop? This has never happened before so it is a brand new experience for all members. The extent of my worldly travels has only ever been for a month at a time as first world problems kick in and I miss my home, meals cooked for me and the comfort of a routine lifestyle. We have a mother who cries when one sets foot in the airport, let alone actually taking off anywhere. We have a father who generously and tirelessly dotes on the duties of pandering to our every needs, delivering our requests in the 5 star level that we are most privileged to receive (demand). We have a sistah relationship that rivals the Kardashians.

Unfortunately I am Kim due to my ‘princess behaviour’ and my ugly crying face. The departing sistah is the Khloe, the rough and tough, uber positive, rarely fazed fun middle child. The remaining sistah is the Kourtney, strong willed, entertaining and with a very mature black/white view on all of life’s issues. Also another carefree one. So what happens when the sensitive mum, doting dad, royal old soul and cool cucumber are left without their golden child to glue everyone together in her neutral manner?

It will be an interesting change to deal with, yes people do it every day but our family has never had to and prior to this career, we would have assumed the first move would be on me, the eldest’ shoulders. (Due to lack of finance and life partner there has been little promise of this happening before 30 so for a while there, our family nest was safe!).

This is the first step in three very sheltered birds having to spread their wings and fly. It’s scary the cloud of uncertainty it brings. Im nervous for my Khloe and how she will cope, hopefully with nothing less than flying colours which I have no doubt she will. Im nervous for the girl who was my rock during my hardest time when she was only a kid herself, her not being there anymore to guide me through. Where will the jokes at my faults and daggy errors come from? Who will force awkward hugs upon me? Who will rip into me for not knowing the newest Triple J unearthed band/song. Who will nom the leftovers?  Im excited she gets to be a domestic goddess, and experience what a life outside of the Shire could mean. That’s big. I’m excited the relationship will develop on a deeper level with instead of being forced to live together and be close we now can choose that option, and that means something.

I will miss her a lot and the challenge will be in now putting the energy into making sure we stay strong and still as close as ever. If not in the least, I will now get to say “the eagle has landed” when she returns home for visits. That, and mum and dad might also chew mine and Kourtney’s food for us to make eating more efficient.

Bible.