This one's for you, Biz.

{This is the year I'm introducing you to my sisters, one at a time, on their birthday. Lizette's birthday was over the weekend, and so, here you go. You can see Liesl's post here, and Gretel's here.}

Lizette is my second oldest sister. We are 6 years apart, and the one who gets mistaken for my twin the most often. She lives just a few blocks from me with her kind husband Jason, and their kids Henry, Oliver, and Livia. We see each other so often, her boys sometimes call me mom. I love it so much.

Liz is cute and quiet and sweet. She has a big, beautiful smile and pretty legs. She likes decorating and cooking and gardening and, in general, making Martha Stewart scared for her job. She is the one tomboy out of the sisterhood-- tough and strong and brave. We joke that she is our parents' favorite daughter, not because she is (I don't think?) but because she is good at everything she does. This year alone, Lizette wrote a book, grew a baby, took care of her family, and kept a blog, all while having a spotless house, looking pretty, and having a meal on the table for her hungry boys every night. She can do everything, happily and effortlessly. 

When I was in 1st or 2nd grade, Lizette had a love affair with The Beatles. She bought all their cds, filled her room with posters of them, and played their music day and night. I grew up thinking that every child listened to Abbey Road while they played Barbies. I know every word to every song. I think of being young and happy and small every time I hear them, thanks to Liz.

One of the last times I went home to my parents' house, someone started playing a bunch of old home movies. There was one in particular that I loved-- it was morning and I was being the annoying youngest sister, shakily videotaping my sister Liesl while she was still in her bed, half-asleep. Liesl was tired and telling me to stop, and of course, I didn't. And then there was a quick shot of Lizette, on the bed next to Liesl, stroking her hair and whispering in her ear, comforting her. She has always been so patient and tender and loving. The little mother. I love that about her.

So, happy birthday, sister Liz. You're wonderful!