Photo of RachelI first started babysitting Rachel when I was 12.  She was this adorable blonde-haired blue-eyed girl.  She and Becca wore matching leggings outfits from a boutique in the Northport shopping mall, I put pink sponge rollers in her pig tails after her bath and I let her watch Pretty Woman before realizing I probably shouldn’t let her watch Pretty Woman! 

I spent every summer I can remember with Rachel and Becca.  Some people called it a summer job, I’m pretty sure I hit the jackpot and just hung out with my friends/sisters Becca and Rachel all summer long.  We drove to the lake and would spend days hanging out on the boat and eating Zorbaz.  We spent days at FCC hanging out at the pool.  We had a trampoline before nets for the trampolines existed.  We had very few chores thanks to Debbie…and we had a wicker basket with spending cash!  Life was good! 

As the girls got older and involved in Ballet and Gymnastics…I spent most of my time driving to and from practices.  I think we were only in one car accident together… on the way to ballet…I remember her smirking at me because she and I both knew it was 100 percent my fault.  I taught her everything I knew (at 15 years old) about driving.  Especially driving to the lakes with the windows down blasting the Fugees or Tom Petty.  

I stayed with Rach and Becca for a couple weeks while Pat and Eric were gone.

It had been about two weeks and we couldn’t eat out every night, so one night we made boxed mashed potatoes…. they weren’t the best, so Rach started pretending that we were in an orphanage and the food was horrible.  She threw a spoonful of potatoes at the cupboard and said, “this isn’t even food!” After cleaning up from the food fight, I realized I had no control of this child!  She could make every bad situation fun for everyone.  Sometimes you just say f-it and throw something!

Rach, you prepared me for motherhood, sometimes I just throw up my hands and curse!  And when my 12 year old grabs a Diet Coke from the fridge, I think of you… and when my 10 year old “spit fire” talks back,  I want to call Pat and tell on her … and when my 5 year old asks to be in dance so she can be in the Nutcracker…I know you’re talking to me.

My favorite memories are probably too embarrassing for us both to share…like when you sat on the hot curling iron, or when the toilet overflowed, and my wedding weekend… but I’ll always remember how much fun we had!

I loved being a part of your life, you’ll always be my first little girl.  🐝❤️