hannah and caroline and me
(part nine)


now that i am resting comfortably just one notch above last place in my ncaa bracket pool, i can step out of the "madness" and stop boring you with basketball-related posts.

today, i'll bring the focus back to my girls. my baby girl and my baby, baby girl to be specific. something is happening with hannah recently that has led me to question a lot of things about how she and i relate to each other. the lack of jealousy towards caroline that we noticed back in august and september is now starting to fade. she is not spiteful with caroline in any way. quite the contrary. every day, there is a moving example of hannah trying to calm her little sister down or cheer her up depending on which she thinks caroline needs. every day, she goes out of her way to give her little sister kisses or hugs (some too rough, admittedly). every day she sings to her or plays patty-cake. every day, you can tell that hannah is infatuated with the idea and reality of sharing her day with caroline and it is a beautiful thing to behold. one thing i am not so sure of, currently, is how well sharing mommy and daddy is sitting with the big sister.

hannah is starting to make comments to sarah about how "you don't smile like that at me, mommy." among other things that make it quite obvious that hannah is starving for some attention. we see and hear things that call for us and we immediately respond with a big hug and kiss or an invitation to sit in our lap or put a puzzle together, but it doesn't take long for us to slip back into "parent" mode and start questioning everything the big girl does.

seriously, parents that read this i am sure will just nod knowingly. and it is a good feeling to know that we are not sailing across uncharted waters, but it feels like we yell and dismiss and discourage hannah more often than we are sweet to her. it probably doesn't just feel like that. i am sure that this is the case. and there are reasons. let's face it. hannah can be a freaking brat. she loves getting her way, just as we all do. and the way that she reacts to not is exactly how we all react to not getting our way, but her reactions are contained in and projected through this 4 year-old package that can gnaw at our nerves 'til they fracture, tie the nerve back together and then chew it in half again just because she can. just yesterday morning, sarah commended me for being as patient as i was with hannah for she wanted to throw her across the room for me due to the obstinate behaviour that she was witnessing while feeding caroline. "throw her across the room?", you ask. doesn't that seem extreme? to that question i reply, either throw her or hit her in the face with a baseball bat. at that moment in time, at that very moment where hannah just chewed the same nerve in half for the second time, those present themselves to be the two most logical and practical options. time-out will not do. talking to her rationally is pointless. violence, then, must be the answer. right?

well, maybe not.

and then she gets her meow in her hand and sucks on her tongue. and i ask myself, has god ever presented me with a gift as great as this image? my baby girl with her protective blanket trancing out and losing herself in the comfort that meow bestows upon her. all parents have this or a like picture in their head i am sure. the one that must come to them when contemplating waterboarding their children. the one that makes their heart feel like it did when that baby girl or boy first came into the world and your heart had to grow a little to make room for them. every day that i get upset with hannah i also get to see her suck her tongue. every day i wish for days with no children, i see her calm and looking at me with her big, sweet eyes and i feel shame for ever wishing her out of my life.

and of course, now there is caroline. i don't know if i've defined her image that will set me free from tossing her out of a moving car just yet. maybe it will be her folding in half when being tickled. maybe it will be the way her eyes smile before her lips do. maybe it will be something else. it will be something, though.

i, absolutely, hate how much time i spend telling hannah what she can't do. but i suppose part of that is what being a parent is all about right now. it doesn't take having a psychologist in the house (although it helps) to see just how impressionable she is. you only have to spend ten minutes with her to see her influences that range from cartoon disney to books that we read to kaykay to teen disney to nickelodeon to sesame street to ms. peace and ms. lita and hopefully a little bit of her parents too. it is now that she is learning what's right and what's wrong. it is now that she's building the foundation of how she sees others, even others that don't look like her. and it's now, because of these things that we have to be stern and have to be sure we are putting her on the path of life that will allow her to be as graceful (in the biblical sense, not the athletic one) as possible as she gets older. it's a tall task and one that we will take seriously with both girls. but it still hurts sometimes.

a girl as sweet as the one that sucks her tongue doesn't deserve to be yelled at, right?

unfortunately, yes. yes, she does.

i love you, hannah. even when i'm "mean" .