Big Sister, Hard Lessons

The Cooper household has some interesting family dynamics. I am the youngest of four children and my husband is the eldest of two. And, as you know, we have two children which makes one the elder and one the younger. As parents, I probably tend to empathize with Jane's struggles as the youngest, more than I do with Ana's struggles as the eldest and my husband probably does exactly the opposite.

(I say this knowing that you will assume (correctly) that we both love both of our children to distraction and there is no overt favoritism going on here. Just some sneaking sympathies...)

Having confessed that I have a little soft spot for Jane (8), I will also tell you that my older daughter Ana (10.5) is possibly the best big sister ever. She is an extremely patient and kind person in general and she loves and enjoys her little sister. (Well, you know, most of the time.)

I will also tell you that Jane can be a little stinker. She wants to be "big" so much that she just glosses right over the fact that she is younger, until it behooves her to play the baby and scream and cry to get her way. For the most part, Ana handles this with grace and resignation.

Every once in a while, though, even ANA has had enough.

Take yesterday, for example.

The girls had been playing a protracted game of School for days, which involved a whole classroom of stuffed animals, plus Ana doing all the stuffed animals' schoolwork. Jane was the teacher --and by teacher, I mean complete and utter dictator. Oh my goodness, when Jane gets bossy, it is just...

Well.

Finally, Ana had enough. She submitted a paper (ostensibly written by a three-year-old) and promptly received an "F-" on it. And that, as they say, was THAT.

"I'm not playing with you anymore, Jane," she said calmly.

Jane screamed and cried and grieved over the injustice of the world for about ten minutes. And then she launched her attack.

"Air Mail for Ana Cooper!" she shouted. And down came a letter, launched from the top of the stairs.

Ana sat, unmoved, reading her book.

"Air Mail for Ana Cooper!" Jane shouted again. And down came another letter, launched from the top of the stairs.

(Note the still dictatorial tone.)

Nope. Nothing doing. No notice taken by the Big Sister, who sat reading her book.

Little sister came down the stairs five separate times. "Ana, can we play school? I promise to act nicer."

"No, I'm reading."

More mail. (This one says (mostly), "I will let you be the teacher! I will also let you be in charge of the game.")

Ana yawned and turned the page in her book. Then she stood up and took her book into the bathroom.

Jane slipped another letter under the door. (Dear Ana, I also REALLY wish we could play right this very minute. LOVE, your Buddy, Jane.)

No notice from Ana. Jane finally realized that Big Sister really meant business this time.

The next letter --a heartfelt plea:

On the back: (PSS: The pencil is for you for keeps! Love Jane.)

"Jane," said Ana. "I don't want to play with you. I am reading."

"But Ana, PLEASE!!"

"Maybe tomorrow."

Jane's little face crumpled. Tomorrow? Tomorrow was SO not today! Tomorrow was too FAR.

She ran back upstairs. In a little bit, the last two letters.(To make up, this is for you. The only stickers I have. Sorry. (Sorry.)

By this point, *I* offered to play school with Jane, who looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. "No, I want to play with ANA."

Oh.

Ana, however, has none of the push-over of her mother in her. She remained calmly detached and never did play school with Jane.

*I*, however, was feeling so bad for the little one that I was on the verge of offering to HAVE ANOTHER CHILD so that Jane would have someone to play with. (Despite the fact that this would require some sort of medical miracle. Details, people, details.)

Ana is wise, though, and she totally understood that if she gave in, she might never have the upper hand again. SHE knows how to teach appropriate consequences. SHE'S the oldest.

Her mother? Not so wise. Not the oldest. Definitely pouring herself a glass of wine.