Megan Whitehead.

What to write about my sister? My twin sister. It just so happens that today is our 24th birthday. I didn't intend for that to happen in the beginning, but it does kind of make this post a little special. I've always known that Megan would be my maid of honor. I mean, really, the twin sister is a shoe in. When we were little, we would get in childish spouts and oust eachother from the position, but that never stuck for long. So here we are, grown ups and being the "of honor"s in each other's weddings this summer. We obviously met in the womb of Mae Whitehead. We are identical twins born one minute apart in the grand ole year of 1988.

We really have done everything together. Went to nursery together, started school together, graduated together, went to college together, and now are planning weddings together.  When we started kindergarten my mom took us to the school on the first day to introduce us to the teacher. Instead of Megan and I being upset, my mom was the one that left the school crying. That's pretty much how life has gone. I've never been afraid of much of anything because I've always had a partner in crime to go with me. Megan has seen the good, the bad, and the real real ugly. She's been there through all the crushes on the good lookin' high school boys, the first boyfriends that you didn't speak to except when you invited them to our birthday party, the first love, and the horrible break up that that ended with, and of course my college years with Jeremy.

A question that everyone in the world ask twins about their boyfriends: "Have y'all every switched places on 'em?!" Well… I can tell you a little story about that. Jeremy and I started dating in the fall of my freshman year at ICC. One weekend Megan and I were home in Shannon, and he was at his house in Mooreville. I must have been getting ready to go out that night, because when he called I told Megan to just answer the phone. Before she could get out that she was Megan instead of Mallory, Jeremy starts in a romantic speech… "I'm in the middle of a field watching the sunset, and I wish you were here…" Of course Megan burst into laughter, tells me what Jeremy said, and then we both burst into laughter. That is the only time that Jeremy Haynes has got mad and hung up the phone on me. So technically, we have never switch places on our boyfriends, but there are occasional misshaps that are bound to happen with two people that look and sound just alike.
Another question is how in tarnation are we going to split all of the piles of stuff that we have shared for our entire lives? Clothes, shoes, the hair straightener, television, movies, socks, underwear, a crock-pot, the metal chicken... (Yes, we share underwear. I've really not ever thought that as being weird. They are clean, and it would be incredibly troublesome to separate them from the dryer after they were washed. Do you know what all of your underwear looks like?) The solution is a NFL style draft that will take place closer to time. We're just going to have to take turns picking from the pile like grown women. This is the only solution that we could think of that would be more civilized than a legal divorce. (I feel a post about The Draft coming on later.)

Megan has been my rock throughout most of my life. She's steady, and up until now, I always knew that she would be there when I experienced new surroundings. I suppose she'll still be there in a sense that we're both going to be newly weds at the same time, just 15 minutes down the road. People have asked me how I feel about Megan and Ben deciding to get married three weeks after Jeremy and me. Do I think she's stealing my thunder? Absolutely not. For Pete's sake, we share everything. We might as well share the wedding summer.

I will conclude this series of posts with a quote I got out of the Daily Journal from a set of twins from Oxford that wrote a book about being twins: 
"People will ask, 'What's it like being a twin? We don't know what it's like not the be. A lifelong gift, she's it. The greatest gift God gave me, she's it."

Brittney McPherson.

I suppose at 24 years old, not many people have friends that they went to kindergarten with. That's where Brittney and I met, I'm guessing. With most friendships, I can remember the first time we met each other, but my memory gets fuzzy about where us two met, like she's always been around. It's kind of like the memory you have of first meeting your grandmother or the first time you brushed your teeth. You don't have that memory because you've always known your grandmother and it seems like you've always brushed your teeth. Although after thinking about it, I guess you couldn't have brushed your teeth before you had them, so I guess you haven't always brushed your teeth. But what I'm trying to say is that the exact moment that we met is unclear. I believe that means that I have a good friend. We were both in Mrs. Christian's first grade class, and accomplished many life goals that year together... learning to read, to not absolutely have to take a nap during the day, and to walk down the hall in a straight line to the bathroom. We also had our first theatrical debut together with our 1st grade Peter Rabbit performance. Brittney acted out the role of Mother Rabbit while Megan and me were Peter's twin sisters (we were a shoe in) Floppsy and Mopsy. Embarrassing. I'm sure that we have many of the same life memories, because like Megan, Brittney and I have pretty much experienced many of the same things together.

 Elementary school came and went and we found ourselves in junior high where they gave us access to real live lockers and a great view of the good lookin' high school boys. Between the two of us, we've probably used twenty packs of wide rule notebook paper stuffing letters decorated with hand drawn stamps about those good lookin' high school boys in each other's lockers. The funny thing is that we drooled over the same boys, and didn't think that was strange at all. Some of my favorite junior high memories are from staying the night with Brittney when we watched the Scream trilogy and rolled half of the Brewer community's yards every October. Like Hillary, me and Brittney grew up in the same church and eventually in the same youth group. Like I said earlier in Hillary's story, that group of friends had a huge impact on my life, and I wouldn't take anything for those times. After high school, Brittney and Hillary tried to go down the unbeaten path to Northeast Community College instead of Itawamba, but they eventually saw the light. In the fall of 2009 we found ourselves both headed to Mississippi State, so naturally we paired up as roommates in Starkville. I can say one thing about Brittney if anything. She is a fantastic dishwasher. I had this weird thing about our Tony Lin dishwasher in Starkville where I didn't want anyone to use it because 1. It left food particles on the dishes like you hadn't even washed them and 2. It ran up our electric bill, and like all college students, money was sparse. Bless Brittney's heart, she humored my peculiarities and me and her washed I bet 95% of the dirty dishes in that apartment. Brittney is a fantastic friend. She's one of those friends that I know will always be my friend, even if we move to different ends of the country. We'd pick right back up like nothing ever happened. That's just the way she is.

Kelsey Crawford Russell.

When Kelsey got married, she hosted a bridesmaids brunch, and she gave us all sweet little handwritten notes that inspired these sweet little typed notes for my bridesmaids. (To give me a little cred, these were originally handwritten.) In my letter she wrote about how I had Maw Maw's sweet, easy-going spirit. That's funny, because I think Kelsey has the same sweet easy-going spirit. All of Maw Maw's grandkids do… at least until we are pushed. Then we get the temper that we've inherited from Mama and Aunt Celia  that they must have gotten from their dad. Like most cousins do, we spent many Saturday afternoons playing at our Maw Maw's house. There's a magnolia tree that's still there that was perfect for climbing. Brittany, Kelsey, Megan, and I would climb as high as we could get in that tree before our mamas started screaming at us. We carved the initials of whichever 3rd and 4th grade boy from Shannon and Pontotoc Elementary that we taught was the cutest at the time. Kelsey and John dated for a long time before getting married, but I'm not so sure that his initials are there. I'm positive that JRH is nowhere on that tree surrounded by hearts. The Good Lord knows that probably all of the boys who's initials I carved in that tree are either in jail now or have three or four illegitimate children. Kelsey's only a year older than me, so she was sort paved the road for me and Megan growing up. She broke Uncle Tommy into the idea of us little cousins having boyfriends so that he didn't pick at us too much, she let me know how high school was really like, and when she went to community college she let me and Megan get a taste of how it was by hosting us in her dorm room. That's what older cousins do, and she's a good one.

Amanda Whitehead Tennison.

Amanda is the only cousin I have on my dad's side of the family. She's three years older than me and Megan, and from what I've been told, she was the only little kid that daddy was around a lot before us. Therefore, she is solely responsible for preparing my dad for raising two twin girls. Growing up, I've been told stories about how Amanda tottled behind my dad everywhere he went, even to the bathroom-which was good practice for him considering that he's shared one bathroom with three females since 1988. Amanda, Megan, and I spent many days of our childhood at Memama's house "cutting up." Cutting up mostly included stringing dull pink grandma crocheting yarn from every knob, hook, or sturdy structure to another sturdy structure in her living room. It also involved tying Memama up with the same dull pink crocheting yarn, and playing dress up with her long Sunday dress skirts. Every once in a while, Memama would let us have a little bit of her cooking flour and we would play restaurant with the pots and pans that she kept in her well house. Amanda was the first person to teach me the cooking lesson that water plus flour equals dough, which is pretty much the most foundational lesson that someone can know about cooking. I'm sure that will come in handy when I'm cooking for Jeremy. When Amanda got married a few years ago, that was the first wedding I'd ever been in as anything except for the kid that hands out the birdseed. She's returning the favor now, and has a sweet little boy that's going to be the ring bearer.

Carlye Carpenter.

 

The first time I met Carlye was at ICC's Baptist Student Union, when she drew a large crowd by displaying her unusual talent of screeching just like the taradactyls I saw on television as a child. First impression: "This girl is a weird-ohhhh." We hung out just a little bit at ICC… I'm not sure if that was despite of or because of the taradactyl thing. We really didn't become good friends until we both transferred to Mississippi State. Jeremy and Carlye's boyfriend, Hutch, were roommates in Starkville, which is a story in itself, so we were bound to interact a lot. Carlye, Hutch, and myself were also placed in the same family group through State's BSU, which I suppose flung us into a close friendship. One of my favorite things about Carlye is that she's always up for anything. A couple of summers ago, six of my friends and I, including Carlye, got a wild hair and took an all-girl road trip across six of the southeastern United States. We did everything from crack crab legs in Tybee Island, Georgia to white water raft in North Carolina to line dance at the Wildhorse Saloon in Nashville. Of course Carlye was in the middle of it all, pitching tents like a champ, driving unfamiliar roads for hours and hours at a time, and roasting some wonderful burnt hotdogs over the campfire. That is definitely one of those trips that I'll show pictures of to my grandkids and tell stories it about forever. Carlye's a real sweet girl. One day during the semester in Starkville when Megan was very very sick with her stomach issues, I got locked out of my apartment because Megan had to go to the emergency room to get an IV. Carlye graciously let me cry and nap on her couch and consoled my hurt feelings.

Sometimes it's good to have couple friends. Hutch and Carlye get that it's not corny or lame for Jeremy to open my car door, and they get that it's good to talk to each other every night even if we have nothing more to say to each other than "Hey…umm…I don't have anything new to tell you…just wanted to hear your sweet voice." Not that Jem and me ever do that, of course… When us four are together, the boys can talk about ESPN and us girls can talk about shoes. It makes things functional. You get what I'm saying? Couple friends are good to have, and they are an excellent friend couple.

Tara Morgan.

Tayrah Morgan. Who doesn't want Tara Morgan to be in their wedding? She's going to be the governor of Mississippi for Pete's sake. I met Tara at ICC, mainly through mutual friends. I supposeour friendship didn't start out on the best foot. Ashley McMillen, one of those mutual friends, chose to go to Tara's high school graduation to hear her speech over mine and Megan's speeches. I was like, "Who is this girl?!" Turns out that we would end up having a whole lot in common and becoming really good friends. The year I was bound to the Mississippi University for Women, she and the rest of apartment twelve were gracious enough to host the Columbus crew in Starkville every Tuesday night for BSU. We have eaten an ungodly amount of Abner's chicken together, taught each other awesome dance moves, and played Catch Phrase until we couldn't breathe any more for laughing so hard. She's been a really strong friend to have, given me good advice when I needed it, and I couldn't be more happy that she's going to be a part of mine and Jeremy's big day. 

Brittany Crawford Mallini.

The cousin Brittany. As far back as I can remember, Brittany has been the cousin who liked to "primp" as my mother and Aunt Celia would say. When we were little she would  put that little kid makeup on me, Megan, and Kelsey and paint our fingernails little girl pink. I also remember one time when I was probably in the sixth grade, Brittany asked me, "When are you going to start wearing makeup?!" With a comment like that coming from your older cousin, this middle schooler definitely sent her mother to Walmart the next Saturday to get a pile of Covergirl makeup. I hold Brittany directly responsible for me wearing makeup, which most certainly helped in getting Jeremy to marry me. This automatically qualifies her as a bridesmaid. She may also be responsible for inspiring the bright red lipstick that I will be wearing on the big day as well as the five inch heels that I picked out for the bridesmaids to wear.

Kayla Coward.

I actually met Kayla at a scholarship interview at the W in the spring of 2008. (Neither one of us got the scholarship) That day, she told us about these really nice apartments near the Columbus hospital that we may want to check out. My roommates and I did check out and rent one of those apartments, and lo and behold is Kayla Coward wasn't our across the road neighbor. Either the first or second time I talked to Kayla was when she was running around Waverly Complex chasing Pepper, her roommates dog, that she had let get out of their apartment. Pepper the devil dog. That initial encounter is a good analogy for Kayla's personality, because she's always doing something outrageously unusual and energetic. Even though I was only in Columbus less than a year and hated every minute of it, Kayla became one of my best friends. Our friendship came really easy because Kayla has never been shy around a single soul in her life, and she was hospitable in a place that did not have much hospitality to speak of. She's cooked for me, ate my cooking, we've taught Megan how to cook together… har har, Megan. She's witnessed many of mine and Megan's intense sisterly quarrels and helped find everything fun in Columbus to do, which isn't much. And for the record, riding the Gravatron fair ride in the KMart parking lot was not fun. Kayla is one of the kindest ladies that I've ever met, and I am blessed to have her be a part of mine and Jeremy's wedding day.

Karissa Haynes Brock.

The groom's sister is a shoe-in for a bridesmaid, but she really is one of mine and Jeremy's best friends. She's been my bed buddy in Alabama on every trip to Maw Maw Fee's house on Thanksgiving and Christmas. She's been on my side of stupid arguments with Jeremy and Cody about whether the salt or pepper shaker should have the more holes. Also, she probably had a lot to do with everything that Jeremy knew about girls when I found him, like fingernail polish, bobby pins, and mascara. I've never had a big brother, or any brother for that matter, but Karissa has graciously shared her big brother with me. She has never once complained to me about Jeremy spending countless hours in Shannon, and he has spent countless hours there instead of Eggville. For that I'm grateful. I'm also grateful that she's prepared Mrs. Paula for all of her children being married and out of the house by getting married four months before us. By June 23rd, I'm sure they'll all be ready for the weddings to be over.

Hillary Jones.

It's a thousand wonders how Hillary and I are even friends. Our relationship started out in elementary school with Hillary refusing to play with me and Megan on the Shannon Elementary playground followed by her making fun of my multi-colored polished fingernails. I eventually figured out how to take her sarcasm, and we became good friends. We also grew up together in the same youth group at Brewer Baptist Church. Actually, the first time I ever visited Brewer was because Hillary invited me when I was in the 4th grade. Soon after that, my family joined Brewer church, which has turned out to have a tremendous impact on my twenty-three year old life. The Good Lord knows He's seen us through some of the crazy things we've done as the Brewer Baptist youth group, and most of those memories include Hillary Jones. We've eaten pickled pigs feet for BBC's FearFactor, jumped off bridges into rushing river water in Eastern Tennessee, and gotten in big trouble for sneaking out late at night at GBA church camp before Hurricane Katrina blew it away. Hillary was there during the only major car accident I've ever been in when we flipped the church van down the hill… also in Eastern Tennessee. All twenty-or-so of us squeezed together in one fifteen-passenger van for the rest of that week. Those youth group days are honestly some of my fondest memories thus far in life. Hillary and I are also tennis buddies. We've endured running in cold February afternoons at Shannon Park and foot drills in the hottest part of the Mississippi summers. We've been to Jackson for the state tennis tournament at least four times, even if it was just as "hamburger eaters" as Coach Christian called the players that didn't qualify for the state tournament and just ate the free meals paid for by the tennis boosters. To be honest, Hillary probably qualified for state, and I didn't, but we were there together nonetheless.  Hillary and I have been through some seriously bad times in life together, and also celebrated some really good ones together. She 

is one of my oldest and closest friends.