Monkey See, Monkey Do: Some sibling dynamics never change. And that's OK

I came across a t-shirt recently that said '80% of my brain is song lyrics.’  It made me giggle. I felt SO seen! 😂

Of that 80%, I would venture a guess that the majority are Barry Manilow’s. He did, after all, write the songs that make the whole world sing.

In 1976, my whole world revolved around my big sister, Jodi. She’s 3.5 years older, and back then, that age gap was significant. At 7 years old, I did whatever I could to make sure she let me be in her orbit. Whatever she did, I did. Whatever she liked, I liked – or at least pretended to. Play Barbies for hours? You bet. Agree to be Sabrina when we played Charlie’s Angels so she and her best friend could be Jill and Kelly? Of course. Let her boss me around? Naturally. 

A small price to pay.

Around this time, Jodi became obsessed with Barry Manilow. So, naturally, I did too.

We spent hours in the basement making up dances to Copacabana. We combed through magazines for pictures of him to pin up on her bedroom wall. We waited patiently for his songs to come on the radio, tape recorder next to the speaker, fingers poised to hit ‘play/record.' We were charter members of The Barry Manilow International Fan Club, and I named my pet fish after his dog, Bagel. Our parents even let us invite him to our Bat Mitzvahs. Spoiler alert: he did not attend.

50 years and a whole lot of life later, and needless to say our relationship has evolved. The age gap has closed, and the playing field has leveled. When we’re together though, I sometimes feel myself reverting back into baby sister mode. As a wife, a mom of 3 and a business owner, it feels good to hand over the reins of responsibility and let her be in charge.

And sometimes, I still want to do what she does.

Case in point: a few months back, a fitness influencer promoting a 30-day challenge started showing up in our Instagram feeds. No surprise, really, since we both fit the profile of her ideal client.

“I think I’m going to sign up for that challenge,” she shared with me one day. 

Not gonna lie…I was surprised. It didn’t seem like something Jodi would do. And, then, I was curious. 

Wait, if Jodi’s doing it…

Monkey see 

To be clear, I already had a gym membership and was happy with my routine. I wasn’t looking to switch things up. I also had some misgivings about my ability to stick with the program. Historically, I've been ‘best of intentions, little follow through’ in this area.

But, wait, Jodi’s doing it…

I started exploring the program.

Weeks later, we were together at my mom's. Sure enough, she’d signed up and was showing me which resistance bands and yoga mat she had in her Amazon cart.

Next thing you know, I’m doing mental math around the value of this program vs. my monthly gym membership.Then I’m on Jodi’s phone looking at the app, the workouts, the nutrition plans.

Just before the sign-up deadline, I couldn’t resist the urge any longer. I signed up.

Monkey Do.

Now, the way we each approached this 30-Day Challenge was – in my opinion – very personality-coded (as my daughter would say). 

Jodi started slowly, choosing first to incorporate the nutrition components into her routine, and build some more cardio stamina before taking up the workouts. 

I, on the other hand, went all in on day 1. Daily workouts, tracking macros, recording water-intake. Turns out, the whole 30-day challenge structure meshed well with my ‘check the box,’ achieve-the-goal mentality. 

Over the course of that first 30 days, we discussed protein strategies, shared pictures of our meal prep, traded countless healthy brownie recipes and bonded over the whole nutrition side of things. I held back talking about the workouts, though, quietly tracking my results, because I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable or behind. (Also very Carla-coded).

I needn’t have worried.

The truth is, we’ve always had our own timelines and approaches to doing life. Neither one good, bad, right or wrong. And this experience was no different.

About a month ago, with the nutrition component fully integrated, Jodi felt ready to dive into the fitness. She began an 8-Week challenge on the app, and now, in addition to recipes, we trade sweaty post-workout selfies and send texts that say things like “Holy sh*t, my glutes are on fire!” 

And then, the best part.

Recently, we both spent some time in New England, and on the one day we overlapped, we did a workout together – in the same living room, and on the same shag green rug, where we used to perform our choreographed Copacabana dances for my parents.

Different routine. Same sister energy.

Fun fact: in 1978, Barry Manilow performed one of his first major concerts in Massachusetts. It was at Harvard Stadium. Jodi and I were there. It was the first of many, many shows we’d see together over the next four plus decades.

Tonight, we’ll see him perform again at the Prudential Center in New Jersey for what may very well be his final tour.

I originally tried to talk her out of buying the tickets. We’d seen him just a few years ago. With this tour on the heels of his recovery from Stage 1 lung cancer, my thought was, maybe we let that other performance be our lasting memory. 

But I could see she was still thinking about it; still checking the ticket sites to see what was available. And given that he rescheduled most of his tour dates (including this one) due to some health complications, it's a miracle he's even able to perform, so…

“Here’s the deal,” I said. “You’ll never regret going, but you may regret not going.”

“You're so wise,” she said.

She says that a lot. She always tells me how proud she is of me, how impressed she is with what I do, what I manage…I usually shrug it off. But her words mean more than she probably realizes. 

“If I get them, will you go with me?” she asked. 

The 57-year-old me played it cool, but the 7-year-old me was bursting.

Of COURSE I will.

Because, even now, regardless of how old we get, when my big sister asks me to play, I will always say yes.