My sister is having a baby.

I have a big sister. She's less than a year older than me - that's right, we're "Irish twins." Growing up we fought a lot. I was always the annoying little sister and she was always the annoyed big sister.

As we've gotten older we've grown to appreciate each other. I've recently learned that what I always read as emotional incompetency was actually her ability and strength to show restraint under duress. She recently came clean to me that what she always interpreted as my flightiness she now identifies as fearlessness and decisiveness.

Not only do I love her a lot but I actually really like her. She's been with this really awesome guy for a couple of years and I really like him, too. This is great news because they're going to have a baby girl soon and odds are that since I really like both of them, I'm really going to like her.

It's going to be a cute baby, right?

According to morphthing.com, this is what my niece will look like.

I woke up last night in a panic - what if I'm not a good aunt?! Granted this is technically not my first rodeo - I have 3 half-brothers who all have children and I have 2 child-aged cousins. My brothers have always been cool older brothers to me and my sister. They're about 20 years our senior so we didn't grow up with them but they made it a point to show us some love - Danny used to always take us to ride dirt bikes and ATV's in the muddy mountains after the monsoons; Tommy dealt with us for an entire parent-free weekend full of pizza partying and amusement parks; and Ronny well, Ronny would buy me beer when I got a little older. Like I said, my brothers are cool but the bond I have with my sister is a result of us growing up together, of her kicking me in the face with her soccer cleats on when I was 5, of me pushing her through a window resulting in 100+ stitches on her face when I was 11, of her asking me to go to the mall with her just so she could ditch me and hang out with the (bad) friend she wasn't allowed to hang out with when I was 13. Our bond has been built on all the fucked up shit we did to each other when we were kids and there isn't a bond stronger.

Here's my family - my mom, all my siblings, their significant others and their children.
Guy in the middle with the mustache is Danny, next to him in glasses is Tommy,
all the way on the right looking like a wannabe Jax Teller (it was Halloween) is Ronny. 

That said, this is different than my brothers' kids and my cousins, this is my sister. My sister is having a baby...seriously, what if I'm not a good aunt? Waking up in a panic at 3:00am with this thought running wild through my post-REM brain, I was about to reach for my computer and Google "how do I be a good aunt?" but then realized, I don't need Google for this one, I have first hand knowledge of what a good aunt does because I have one.

Me and my aunt.

My mom is the oldest of 5 children with 3 younger brothers and 1 younger sister. Growing up I never lived in the same city as my aunt and uncles so seeing them was always a special treat. We'd go visit, they'd take time off work and we'd spend our holiday sightseeing the skyscrapers, window shopping on 5th Ave, going out to Broadway shows, fancy dinners and having pizza/movie nights. I watched my first rated R movie with my aunt. She taught me how to wax my own legs. When my sister and I were 13 and 14 we even went to my aunt's bachelorette party to a dinner club in Manhattan - pre-teens at a bachelorette party IN MANHATTAN. There were no other kids there - just my aunt's friends all drinking a cocktail out of a scorpion bowl (while we sipped on virgin coladas) in a hip jazz bar in Hell's Kitchen.
To put this into perspective - I've had my 9 year old cousin's friend request pending for over a year now because I don't have the heart to reject it but I refuse to accept it because I don't want to have to adjust the "adult" language/nature/content of my Facebook posts.
So here it is - #1 reason I loved hanging out with my aunt was because she never treated me like a child. I always felt like an adult. As far back as I can remember, she always talked to me like a grown up - never dumbing down her vocabulary or raising the pitch of her voice the way most adults do when they speak to kids. Even as an adult, she always trusts and encourages my decisions - always giving advice but never overstepping boundaries. In between all of that she alway gives plenty of hugs, kisses and cuddles.
Reason #2 - she was cool. In the 90's she wore denim jackets and wayfarers. She shopped at the Gap and listened to The Police. She had cropped black hair and wore bright pink lipstick. She could draw any Disney character. She worked for a non-profit teaching computer skills to women re-entering the workforce. She wasn't just cool, she was the epitome of cool. My aunt was an original hipster.
Reason #3 - she was so much fun. Every summer my aunt and uncles would take us to Six Flags Great Adventure in New Jersey. They'd rent a minivan, make sandwiches for lunch and drive 3 hours there and 3 hours back just so my sister and I could ride some roller coasters. My aunt was the only adult who would ride the coasters with us kids (even though I'm pretty sure she didn't like it).

My sister and I were texting each other this morning. I told her about my 3:00AM anxiety. I said, "what if I'm not a good aunt? What if the kid hates me?" To which my sister replied "Haha. How do you think I feel?!"
I guess knowing that the therapy needed to overcome a bad mother is WAY more intense and expensive than the therapy needed to overcome a bad aunt leaves me feeling a bit less anxious. Really, when it comes down to it, I know this kid is going to turn out awesome. She's going to have an amazing family to turn to if she ever needs anything. Just like I have an effortlessly cool, fun, respectful aunt to look to for support and guidance in my new role, my sister has our fantastic, born-to-be-a-mom mom to support and guide her in her new role. As long as the baby doesn't come out looking like the morph from above, I think everything is going to be ok. I can't wait to meet her.