somebody's got a case of the mourndays

be a good egg

Don't Grow Up

The Baby is turning 2 years old at the end of the month and it is tugging at Princess Commando's heart. She worries that The Baby will magically change over night- become a rabid brat; a sour, unlovable demon who will no longer yearn for her older sister's attention or delight in the special moments they have always shared. I am working on a little project for Princess Commando, a book maybe, about an older sister's plea for her little sister to stay little. Here's what I have so far:

you will not always want to strangle your siblings

When one (or more) of my children comes to me with exasperation on his/her breath and a promise to sever family ties with a sibling who has been poking them with the vexing stick, I tell them they will not always feel this way. One day, if I have done my job well, they will not all be living under the same roof. Time and space will allow them to flourish into their own unique and compelling personalities. They will learn to cultivate compassion for others, even their siblings.

One day, when they begin to feel the tightening grip of grown- up responsibility and obligation, they will long for the blithe days of their youth. They will softly land in the reverie of the home and family life of their childhood, the holidays and ordinary moments of merriment. Inevitably their siblings will be woven into this anamnesis. And they will find themselves pining for a reunion with their brothers and sisters.

They doubt me each time I tell them how it will be. But, I remember life with my siblings. I remember days of irritation and resentment. I also remember a long period of apathy for one another - coexisting with minimal interest or interaction. We loved each other because our parents told us, "You must!"

It was not until I had my first baby that I understood the true value of my sister, Bug, who is 2 1/2 years younger than me. Nearly every day of the first month of his life, she showed up at my door to hold First Born Son in her arms. Our time was not filled with conversation. It was crocheted with quiet acceptance and appreciation. She gave me the gift of time-for a shower, for a meal. The fact that she understood what I needed without asking made me realize that she truly loved me- that we were beyond the place where our parents forced us into sibling servitude. This was genuine.

Bug moved away when Princess Commando was three years old. My heart broke. And ever since she left, we have been wishing her back. The moon and the stars must have heard us- we must have done something right because next week my sister and her family are moving home for good. Our family will be whole again. And finally we will be able to perform musical numbers such as this:

Happy Friday!

is there an echo in here?

Morning in the Sisters' Room

Today, on the way home from picking up the middle children from their summer art camp, Princess Commando entertained The Baby in the back seat by repeatedly throwing a stuffed animal at the ceiling. The Baby sounded like she was about to burst at the gut with her deep belly laughing. "Oh, Violet, I am so happy to have you," cooed Princess Commando.

Violet has been a good thing, for sure. She is a glue which bonds the other siblings in a singular commonality- an adoration of their littlest sister. The boys were always mortal enemies- always swapping the position of being on the defensive or offensive. Never content with each other's company. Never appreciative of the potential of their brotherhood. Contrarily, Henry and Princess Commando are like twins birthed 3 years apart.  They share many of the same interests, the same humor, vices, the same annoying secret language, and even a bedroom for a year. They value one another's company and find comfort in breathing the same air. With 8 years separating Princess Commando from her baby sister, we worried that our hot and cold Princess would have difficulty stepping out of the role of Baby. We could only hope that there would be love between them. And there is.


Since we have been in this house (which has been three years), we have disarranged bedrooms, bodies and belongings numerous times, mainly to accommodate the youngest member of our family. In planning for Violet's arrival, we always knew that we wanted the girls to eventually share a bedroom. It happened more quickly than we had intended. I wanted to wait until Violet was out of her crib (which I expected to be next summer). But, in June, on the first day of their summer vacation, Princess Commando requested that she be moved out of the third floor bedroom (which she had been shuffled into a year ago with Henry) and back into her old bedroom with Violet. It has worked out much more favorably than I could have imagined. I believe that the new arrangement has given Princess Commando a stronger sense of kinship with her little sister. And Violet seems much more content now that she has a room mate.

My new favorite vision is of the girls in their room in the morning. I will hear Violet "talking" which has always been my cue to retrieve her from her crib. But when I open the door, I find that the conversation is no longer one sided. Princess Commando is either draped over the railing of the crib holding her sister's hand or she is groggily answering back in whispers from her own bed. I cannot make out what they are saying- but their voices are sweet and soft and I imagine their first few moments awake to be like this:

Thank you to Princess Commando for drawing a vision of pterodactyl kittens and lizard turtles for me. Photographs were snapped while the girls were still groggy and the lighting was not quite right. I've altered them heavily in Photoshop, with many layers and my favorite smudgy finger tool.