Sister Act

Sometimes the magic takes time

My first daughter was 2 and a half when her little sister was born.

We made sure that the baby arrived
(miraculously and mysteriously!)
with an ‘I am the BIG Sister’ t shirt and baby doll for Jennifer.

Careful introductions were made.
Much attention lavished on Jennifer.
Shannon came home on- I swear- the hottest July day I’ve ever experienced.
Jennifer sat next to me, hiked her shirt up, and placed her baby to her chest as I nursed Shannon.
Well; OK!

She tenderly patted a foot.
Kissed the baby’s head.
Looked concerned when she cried, and cuddled next to me (something she rarely did) when Shannon slept.
Well; OK!

After a dinner where much was made about how a BIG sister eats grown-up food, Jennifer had her bath and slipped into her She-Ra night gown.
She gathered the baby blanket, diapers, pacifier and stuffed dog, placing them in the new baby’s car seat.
Slowly and carefully she pulled the car set to the front door, then came over and kissed Shannon’s head.
Instead of saying goodnight, she said good-bye.
Cute, I thought. Very sweet.
Well; OK!

The next day went well.
Still very hot.
No air conditioning.
As a nursing mom I held the baby constantly.
It felt like we were fused together from the heat.
Jennifer was thrilled that her grandmother was staying over and had fun cooking and playing outside.
Night time, and the car seat ritual was repeated.
Bath, items gathered, baby kissed good-bye.
You mean ‘good night’ we said.
OK?

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