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Browsing Tag: sisters

What We Don’t Know

It’s the barely perceptible shushing noise that tips me off. Cian, quietly, slyly, opening the door to his oldest sister’s room–the one she keeps closed to keep her sacred space free of American Girl-mauling dogs and three-year-old little brothers–then slowly, carefully, easing it closed again. I let him go for a few minutes, maybe five, partly because I don’t feel like playing Mean Mom right now, and partly because I’m a terribly nosy person, and curious to see what could be so fascinating in Saoirse’s room that he wanted to sneak in. After a bit, I open the door, look around, and discover him sitting on the other side of the bunk bed, playing with the Shopkins SK keeps there, on an old rolling office bookcase of my mom’s that Saoirse insists on keeping. I don’t know if I say hello or if he just hears me come in, but Cian looks up at me with a smile, then places the toys back on the shelf where he got them. “I putting them back, Mommy,” he says…

Well, You’d Get Sappy, Too

I was feeding Cian tonight in his bedroom, listening to the girls in the living room below (living in an open floor-plan split-level: so easy to eavesdrop!). They were curled up on the loveseat together, paging through a photo album like two old ladies looking through black-and-white photographs of their youth. The album contained pictures from about two years ago (which was probably the last time I actually had real photos printed out, but you’re the same way, right?), and Saoirse was just talking Quinn through them, telling her stories, explaining who each person was. And as I listened, I heard them talking back and forth in quiet, calm voices, reminiscing and asking questions, and it was exactly–exactly–how I imagine them talking in 30, 40–or yes, when they’re old ladies and I’m long (*sniff*) gone–years. I can’t really explain how I felt right then. Happy, yes, because there’s nothing like hearing your children have one of those moments when they’re in their own private bubble, content. Proud, because David and I are raising two kind, smart…

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…