Being A Big Sister

Since mom had her hip replacement surgery, I have been trying to go home a lot to help out at the house. It has been slightly stressful trying to juggle family and school but it has also been really fun. I decided to write this entry to highlight the glories of being a big sister.

Being a big sister is really fun. It is like being a mini-celebrity. Or better yet, it is like being a really cool grandma, but without the gray hairs, aches and pains, hearing aides, pill bottles, and quirky habits. (OK, so maybe I have a few quirky habits). I will also caveat this by saying that being a big sister is more fun when your little siblings haven't gone through puberty yet. After puberty they get all into computer games, the internet, and their friends and they become too cool to spend much time with you. A big sister never quite reaches the un-coolness level of mom and dad, but it can get close. For example: I remember many years ago when Paul was 9 years old he got a really nice Lego set for Christmas. I was gone for Christmas visiting my relatives and didn't get back until the 30th of December. When I arrived home Paul showed me his unopened Lego box and told me that he had waited to open it because he wanted to build it with me. Ah.... warm fuzzy memories. Now when I go home I barely see Paul because he is off doing his own thing. Oh well, He is still fun to hang out with, when I actually see him.

Sometimes the popularity of being a big sister can be a bit overwhelming. In the girl's room there are two sets of bunk beds. Sarah and Kalkidan sleep on one set and then Rachel and I sleep on the other set. (Rachel sleeps on the bottom bunk due to her cerebral palsy in her left arm and leg). So last Saturday I woke up early with the feeling that someone was watching me. Sure enough, when I opened my eyes I saw a fuzzy little Afro over the edge of my pillow. With a closer examination of the situation I realized that Rachel was standing up next to the bed with her folded arms resting on the edge of the top bunk and she was discretely watching me sleep. I think this behavior might have originated with the fact that some weekends I like to get up early and sneak out of the room and have some of my own quiet time before others get up. Rachel was ready for me this weekend and wasn't going to have any of this sneaking-out-of-the room behavior. In a groggy voice I asked Rachel if she wanted me to get up. She shook her head 'no,' but continued to stand at the side of the bed staring expectantly. Apparently it was fine if I slept, just as long as she could watch me. I decided to get up and we made pancakes. Rachel had trouble with the whole pancake-flipping skill thing, but we worked out a system where she poured the batter in the pan with a little measuring cup.

(My view when I woke up on Saturday morning. Rachel was very patiently watching me while I slept).


Sarah is just entering the really fun age where she is still curious, really fun, and enjoys spending time with us quaint adults, but she can now do lots of things (i.e. cooking, etc.) that she couldn't do when she was younger. Last week I watched in amazement as Sarah blazed into the kitchen made enough cinnamon rolls for 14 people without a comment or the tiniest assistance from someone older. Also, Sarah is way smarter than I was at her age. Apparently she does her math homework every week without making a single mistake.

Anne is the exception to the less fun after puberty rule - the older she gets the more fun we seem to have with each other. Last Sunday mom was home in bed I took her place next to Anne in church. Anne was in a very good mood that morning and she was vocalizing a lot during the opening singing so I knew that she was having a 'vocal day.' Mom is usually no-nonsense and Anne usually sits quite still beside her during church. However, with me Anne has a tendency to get sort-of playful and silly. After the singing was over I put the bulletin on Anne's tray. I was engrossed in the service and then noticed the bulletin sliding to the edge of the tray and about to slide off. I quickly pushed it back to its original location and looked back at the pastor. Then Anne very intentionally started pushing the bulletin off the edge of the tray again. Ah ha! A game had begun. Every time Anne pushed the bulletin to the edge of the tray she smiled a little more. Soon she was laughing. Andy leaned over and asked why Anne was giggling. I gave my best innocent look and said I had no idea. (Deflecting blame is a privilege of being a big sister). Andy then told me to tell Anne to stop laughing. I gave him a skeptical look. When in the history of humankind, has it worked to tell a 13 year old girl to stop giggling? (You should try this sometime and see what happens). I obediently relayed the message to Anne and told her to stop laughing, which of course, immediate doubled the volume and amount of her giggling. I thought it was a pretty fun church service, although others present may not have agreed.

(Gene showing me where he was adopted from in Russia on the map in our dinning room. OK, so I didn't actually talk that much about Gene in this entry, but he is really cool too. You get the gist of the whole big sister thing).