Max eats, insane sibling rivalry ensues
Big excitement at our house. Max ate by himself for 15 minutes straight, the most ever! This is him downing couscous, which we have in abundance because Linnette (our babysitter) is addicted to it. Every year since Max was born, he always has some sort of breakthrough right around his birthday, which is coming up on December 10. At age one, he commando crawled (like Army soldiers do, because he didn't have the arm strength to get up on all fours). At two, he did get up on all fours and boy, did he get around. At three, he walked across his bedroom and into my arms. Four and five are a bit of a blur, because he made a lot of progress. And now, at six, he's feeding himself.
You may have noticed Sabrina's reaction to her brother's breakthrough (she's decked out in her ballet-recital costume from June). When I squealed "Yaaaaaaay! Max is eating!" she wailed "I'M HUNGRY!!!" Not caught on tape: the part where she said "MAX IS GOING TO EAT IT ALLLLLLLL UP!!! MOOOOMMMMMY, WE WON'T HAVE ANY FOR TOMORROW!!!!" FYI, she doesn't even like couscous. Fascinating, isn't it, how kids wear their emotions on their pink-sequined sleeves.
She gets jealous of all the attention we give to Max. We celebrate, with loud whoops and cheers, every little accomplishment. I totally understand where Sabrina is coming from; I was pretty jealous of my sister when we were kids. Mainly, because she was always such a good girl and, I thought, my mother's favorite. I wasn't a juvenile delinquent or anything, but me and my big mouth gave my parents a run for their money.
Just curious, what kind of sibling were you growing up—the good one? The funny one? The smart one? The troublemaker?
