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Category: Sibling Rivalry

In a Sea of Lions

Quinlan came home with this cute project the first graders completed in the beginning of March. Each child had to decide if she or he was more like a lion or a lamb, and explain why. We were all in the kitchen when I saw it, and so the first time I read it was out loud. Here’s the translated version: “I am most like a lamb because I am calm when my brother screams and is scared and when my sister is mean to me.” David and I just started laughing. But Saoirse? Oh, Saoirse was aghast: “QUINLAN!” She looked at her sister in shock. “I have to see your teacher! That’s what she’s going to be thinking about me now?!” All I could think was, join the crowd, Saoirse. I let her read last Thursday’s post. She know’s what’s up. So, a little advice to our eldest: welcome to our world, big girl. Take it from me and your dad: just don’t make eye contact with anyone you know anymore and you’ll get along juuuuust fine…

The Mighty Stands Up

I was sitting on a blanket with Cian, keeping an eye on the girls, who were splashing around in the wading area of our community pool.  It took me a second, but I realized that Saoirse was looking at me, and that she was crying.  My mama heart seized up for a moment. A little boy–and by little, I mean, he was bigger than SK–had taken the new toy boat she’d brought from home and was playing with it, taunting her, splashing it back and forth so that the water was getting kicked up in my daughter’s face. SK had been asking him to stop, from what I could see.  Now she was looking at me, wanting me to tell her what to do, to intercede, to do something. I bent down to scoop up Cian, my heart pounding now because you don’t mess with my kid, and looked up a split second later to a scene I never, ever expected to see. Quinn was walking away from that boy, trudging up the grass toward me.  She had Saoirse’s boat in her hand. “That boy took Saoirse…

Patience

I was downstairs in the family room folding laundry (surprise, there).  There girls were playing in the living room above me, which was only a half of a flight of steps away. I was lost in my own thoughts a little bit, foldingfoldingfolding, when the girls’ chatter escalated just enough to break through my navel-gazing.  From the sound of things, Saoirse was helping Quinn learn her colors, and had quickly grown exasperated: SK:  “Quinn! We’ve been talking about it every single day when Mom doesn’t see us and I’m not at school.” Quinn:  (unintelligible) SK:  “You know what it is!” Quinn:  “Pink!” SK:  “Yes! You got it!  Now, do you know what color this is?” I stopped in mid-fold to write down what they were saying.  It took me 24 years of life to decide to become a teacher. And, to tell you the truth, I thought I was a pretty decent one at the time. But Saoirse is four, and insists that she doesn’t want to have any other job in the world when she grows up than being a…