There are times when it seems the Girl’s frustration with the Boy is simply going to overwhelm her, take over her mind, body, and soul. “E!” she cries out, stretching his name into a several-second yelp. When she’s talking to her cousin in Poland, she can be positively cruel, trying to shove him out of her room so she can have “peace and quiet.” When he gets into her Legos, it’s as if he’s managed to snag a Ming dynasty vase and is attempting to juggle it.
Of course he can give it as well as he gets it, and sometimes the Girl comes and complains that E is being mean. “Well, he’s only following your example: you taught him how to do that,” K and I remind her.
Some days, it’s like playing Whack-a-Mole: one gets calmed down just as the other decides it’s about time for a little provocation. Reverse and repeat. Reverse and repeat. Reverse and repeat.
When they’re in such a mood, it brings out the worst in them in another respect, too: they become the worst tattle-tales. I guess this is just another form of provocation, though.
Watching them in these moments, it might be hard to see the love they have for each other, especially when L’s all worked up. But it’s there, strong and bright and clear. Most clearly, it comes from E, who’s not afraid to show his love and admiration for his older sister. She is everything to him, and he imitates her as much as he imitates K and me.
The Girl shows it in little surprising ways. This morning, “Polish Christmas” as they call it, she was up first. That in itself is a rarity. Still, there she was the first one up, with a little prodding. She had the first meeting of Battle of the Books this morning, and she had to be at school a little early — with chorus, that means early starts Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday for the foreseeable future. It’s always hard to get her out of bed, but I thought I had the silver bullet today: “Mikołaj came — I think he left you something.” I expect her to bolt upright and start asking, “Where? Where? Where?” with a crazed expression. It would be a typical L action in many ways. Instead, she simply answered that she wanted to open her present with E.
“He’s still asleep,” I explained, thinking that would put an end to it all.
“Okay, I’ll wait.”
It was worth it.
L led E to his presents and celebrated with what Mikołaj brought him. (The prized present: a light and siren set to turn his bike into a “police vehicle” as he explained it.) Then she demanded that he lead her, with her eyes closed, back to her room to check out her presents. (The prized present: a new pair of pajamas emblazoned with L’s morning mantra: “Five more minutes!”)
In the evening, it was time for more holiday preparation: Saturday’s a big smoking day for me, and we put around twenty-five pounds of pork loin in a brine to get it ready. The Boy, who’s always wanting to cook, helped out. I taught him how to test the brine (“It should taste as salty as the ocean,” I explained) and then spit it out.
Of course the spitting into a pot was the highlight. He was not at all disappointed that we didn’t have the salt level correct the first time and had to keep adding and testing, adding and testing.
Afterward, a little work on the couch together.
What did Mikołaj bring K and me? This beautiful day.
