I love being a big sister.
I love love love love love being a
big sister. It is absolutely amazing being able to tell your little sister how
excited you felt the day she was born, and being able to tell your little
brother what that you liked to do exactly what he is doing, when you were
little.
It is so fun to rescue your little
brother from a tree, as he is about to fall out of it, and then hold his hand,
because he won’t walk unless you do (!!) all the way to the house.
Today my two-year-old brother came
out of the girls’ room, where my 6-year-old sister had just dressed him up in a
cute little dress. He was walking out the door, through the kitchen, where I
was peeling some vegetables, and he was saying to himself, “I am a girl.” I
took one look at him and realized that the poor thing was having an identity
crisis. I pulled the dress off over his head, and explained, trying to make it
at a 2-year-old level. “No, you’re a boy, not a girl. Boys wear pants and
boyish shirts, not dresses. Now go outside and play with some toy guns or
swords.” And with that, sent him outside. J It is rather funny, seeing
as though I used to dress my brothers up in dresses and myself in boys cowboy
clothing. We actually have pictures of my older brother and I and all the
little ones, (or as many were born at the time! J)
dressed as the opposite gender. Now, I’m trying to stop my little sisters from
doing the same. Funny how your perspective changes as you grow up!! J
Caleb (the two-year-old)
I love watching little kids play,
and stopping their little fights and arguments, and holding their hands, and
tickling their necks, smothering them with kisses, and reading them stories.
I just love being a big sister!!!!!
J
