Wednesday, June 2, 2010

The age old question.....

Is it nature? Or nurture? How do these things happen? I watch my girls growing up together and pray and pray and pray and hope and hope and hope that they LOVE each other when they have a choice. In our house, right now, they have no choice. But I hope that leads them to the right choice in the future. Here's where I'm coming from: my sister T and I. We are close. SO close. Sometimes annoyingly close (to those around us, i.e. husbands). But it wasn't always this way. Picture it: 1988ish. I'm 12, T's 16. We're home alone after school, parents still at work. An argument over TV erupts, violence ensues. She's got me pinned to the ground, laughing. THEN plays the spit game where she slowly lets her spit string out of her mouth, stopping it just before it hits my face. Flash forward: 1989ish. I'm a Frosh at a HUGE high school. It's her third (and last) year there. She comes up to me at lunch time - I'm so relieved. Here's my big sis! I'm not alone! Oh, what's that? You need lunch money? Oh, ok.......bye?

But, to be fair, I'm struggling to come up with memories. We are siblings. We sometimes treat each other like dirt because no one else will take it and sometimes....we need someone to take teenage angst (or toddler angst) out on. Someone who will still love you when it's over. I'm sure she has similar stories about me. NO need to share them T! I know I did my share of sibling yuck. My point to this is: How did we end up so close?

Yes, we still argue. There was a big one a couple years ago at Thanksgiving that took us a month or so to get over. (She, being the bigger person, brought it up finally). But, the "snits" are fewer and far between and interspersed with such warm love and affection, they are almost negligible.

So, now, as a parent of two girls, I'm faced with "how do I give this to them?". How do I make sure they have the loving relationship I know they can have? I meet so many people on a daily basis, mostly at work. We end up talking a lot. Often, it ends up sounding like a counseling session (sometimes for them, sometimes for me!). I hear stories of broken up families. Siblings that "don't talk". How. how does this happen? And how can I keep it from happening to my girls. Their relationship is so precious...to ME. How can I make it so precious..... to them. What happens when family members just decide to cut other family members, especially siblings, out of their lives? What can be so powerful to make them do that? Does it happen because one sibling feels inferior or less loved by their parents? Is it because they are just so different in their personalities that they could never get along?

Here's what I know. I know my Dad always said:"Someday, she'll be your best friend." He was right.

Here's what I know. My parents never took sides.

Here's what I know. My sister and I are VERY different, but cut from the same cloth.

Here's what I know. We loved and hated each other with the same intensity at different times in our lives, but the love part had endurance. The hate was merely a sprint. Always.

I know our family was always put first by our parents.

I know our parents didn't have the same relationship with THEIR siblings that we do with each other.

I know there is something special between T and I.

I DON'T know how that happened.

But. I do know, I will take my job as a mom seriously, as I always have. And being a mom to more than one kid....it's a new job description. I am now: referee, counselor, teacher and guide with the utmost responsibility on my shoulders. I now need to figure out how to teach these girls how to love each other. No. Matter. What. Big sigh. It's a big responsibility. Thank goodness I have a good example to draw from.

***sorry no pics with this post - I don't currently have access to my pics. I'll add some deathly cute sibling pics soon. ;) ***

Friday, March 5, 2010

One More Warning!


Recently, the girls and I went to Green Bay, Wisconsin in an attempt to visit my paternal Grandmother, Grandma DeWitt, before she passed away. Much to my dismay, she passed 6 days before our scheduled arrival. Regardless, we carried on with our scheduled trip, as my mom and sister were also going and we knew we could be of assistance to my Aunt in settling Grandma's affairs. Plus, a weekend with all the girls is always a blessing. Piper and Quinn did great on the plane - which is always daunting when it's 2 kids to 1 parent. However, sharing a bedroom is something they don't get to do often and BOY, did they get their kicks out of that! I'm all for a little fun in situations like that - after all, I have very fond memories of getting to sleep with my sister on Christmas Eve's and other various and sundry occasions; laughing and giggling until we just passed out. However. After 4 or 5 very loud and myserious bumps and peels of laughter loud enough to crack even the most frozen of tundras I had to lay down the hammer. A few times. (Apparently that night I was carrying a cute little pink "HER tool box" hammer good for only the smallest of picture hanging jobs.) I was running out of threats. So, I gave it the ole "I am NOT giving you one more warning...." (I really meant it this time.) As I walked out, Piper wined "I WANT one more warning...." Then as the door closed, a little louder, "I want one more WARNING." Then, a little louder, " I want ONE MORE WARNING!". And finally, at all 10 decibels, "ONE - MORE - WARNING!!!!!" That became the mantra for the next 10 minutes. "ONE - MORE - WARNING!!!" As sobs turned into snores my Mom, sister and I laughed at her persistence and had ONE -MORE - glass of wine.

Then came February. I know, in this household we were glad to see it. January had not been kind. My Mom's mom, Nana (or Nana Bunny as the girls call her) had been fighting pneumonia for weeks and my Mom called regularly with updates. My mom is the ultimate optimist. Sometimes to a fault. So when she starts calling with "updates" on her mother on a daily or every other day basis and is not always positive about how it's going to turn around, you worry. Add this to a recent "swing and miss" with Grandma DeWitt and we all got a little sketchy. Within a couple of days my sister and I both had flights home to spend some time with Nana. Whether she 'went' tomorrow or in 5 years, no one wanted to feel like they had missed an opportunity to tell her how much she was loved. As it turned out, gratefully, Nana recovered and while we were there, though she was tired and a little less "there" mentally than when we last saw her, she still played a mean game of cards. I had my moments with her. I told her what a gift she was to me and how much I loved her. She felt it. She knows it. I know she knows it. I am at peace with it.


While there, Mom and T reminded me of "ONE MORE WARNING!". The similarities between the situations struck me hard. Nana, once an amazingly strong, self sufficient, independent woman, had become child like - needing her daughter to help her sequence taking off a sweater. And needing to be told "what do I do now?". And, even more childlike, needing reassurance that she was ok. That she was where she needed to be and was doing what she needed to be doing. By the way, the grace with which both my mother and her mother handle this is beautiful and inspiring. Nana knows she is "losing it". And she just accepts it as "how it's supposed to be, I suppose...." and gives the reigns over to Mom. Mom gracefully, patiently and gently guides Nana, her mother, through the minutia of daily life as only an amazingly compassionate mother can. When reminded of my own child asking for one more warning, I realized that what happened with Grandma DeWitt was "one more warning" for me. And what was happening then with Nana was one more gift. I am so sorry I missed my chance to tell Grandma DeWitt in person how much I loved her, how much she meant to me. But I am, and will be continually be, grateful for my one more warning that gifted me special and meaningful time with my Nana. And every moment I get with her after this will be treasured and not taken for granted. I hope we have many more games of Gin Rummy in our future and I hope she continues to whip all of our butts. Grandma D, thank you for all the "gushy Grandma hugs" and one last warning to love as much as you can, when you can. And Nana and Mom, thank you for one more gift.