Stool Pigeon

From upstairs, I heard that sound every parent dreads. The I’m-so-hurt-not-a-lot-of-sound-comes-out cry. As I fought to get over the baby gate, I was met by Addison hip-carrying a distraught Scarlett down the stairs. While I tried to figure out what had happened, Addison claimed she had “no idea” why Scarlett was so upset. Which might have worked except for one thing: Scarlett reaching enough verbal maturity to rat mean big sisters out. As Addison continued to feign mystification, Scarlett pointed to her sister, with a finger still bearing the telltale red welt of being recently pinched, bellowed “Her hurt me!” and began relating a story of little sisters wanting to get into places big sisters didn’t want them and the painful results. Miraculously, just then Addison regained enough memory to admit that she might have “accidentally shut the door on Scarlett’s hand.” Coming on the heels of an afternoon of bickering over babies being allowed to do anything they want, the accidental component of Addison’s story rang a bit hollow. And so it goes for little siblings everywhere. It’s nice to be the baby and get all that attention, but you take some abuse. In families, the proverbial you-know-what rolls you-know-where--and the shortest ones are at the bottom of the sibling hill. In Kathleen N. Daly’s Little Sister, Liz feels cheated when big brother David ditches her for the older kids but realizes he still loves her when he comes to her rescue. I guess blood is thicker than squabbles.

http://www.amazon.com/Little-Sister-Big-Golden-Books/dp/0307682560

http://www.librarything.com/author/dalykathleenn

And The First Shall Be Last

Sibling groups always debate who got the raw deal in birth order roulette. The middles feel ignored. The babies complain of hand-me-downs. But it doesn’t matter what the other kids say, being the oldest is the hardest. Your parents are at their most neurotic. You get blamed for everything. And you end up being the free, built-in babysitter. For me, being the oldest came with all those things, but the plusses outweighed the minuses--except that whole taking the blame thing. My mother once jumped my case when my brother got PlayDoh on the carpet. And he was thirteen at the time. Seriously. I did do a lot of babysitting, but that was largely by choice. However, with great power comes great responsibility. If you’re going to watch the baby, you better keep on your toes. During one of many adventures with nine month-old Matthew, he fell asleep and I lowered the back of his ancient stroller so that he could lie flat. Unfortunately, when I tipped the stroller to go up a curb, my prone baby brother tumbled onto the street head first. Hysterical with grief and guilt, I grabbed him, leaving the stroller behind in the street, and ran all the way home. He was fine, but I was a mess and have never forgotten that moment. In Catherine Lukas’ Francie the Babysitter, big sister chimp resentfully tends baby brother chimp until he gets in terrible trouble and only she can save him. Sometimes being big comes in handy.

http://www.amazon.com/Francie-Baby-sitter-fabulous-five-minute-stories/dp/1599391015

http://www.jacketflap.com/persondetail.asp?person=24015