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We went to a music class yesterday. E jumps around. The teacher looks at her with playful astonishment. "Did you just touch the ceiling on that jump???" With wide-eyed pride she nods. Yes.
L wants to jump but doesn't yet know how. So she claps to the beat and lurches from one foot heavily to the next. She looks like she's performing a Tongan tribal dance. I have no doubt she will one day be an enthusiastic chest thumper.
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I'm big, and L isn't big, says E. "But she will be," I tell the elder sister. "One day she'll be as big as you, but by then you'll be even bigger. That's your job--to grow and get bigger." How will L be a big girl? she asks. "Well, remember last summer we took down your crib and put you in your bed? One day we'll do that for L. That's one way she'll be a big girl. Probably next summer. We'll take down her crib and buy her a new bed." No! I don't want that! "Well, honey, she's going to keep growing, just like you," I say, clumsily misunderstanding in that inadequate motherly misunderstanding way. No! When she's two, I don't want you to buy her a bed. I want her to share my bed. When she's old enough for a bed we can sleep together for every, every night.
