the heart grows fonder

When I was nine, my family stayed at my great-aunt Mimi's elegant house in Westchester for yet another Korach family Thanksgiving. There were always lots of relatives, adult conversations I could barely follow, pieces of art we were forbidden to touch, and inevitably, my younger sister and I would find questionable parts of the house to play in. That's how she came to sprain her ankle that year: we were jumping off the marble steps in the entryway, higher and higher, until disaster struck.

Oh, how everyone fussed over her! And oh, how cute and little she was! I already felt large and unwieldy by that point, a puzzle for adult relatives who enjoyed tossing little ones in the air but didn't quite know what to do what a kid my age. Too big for tickling, too young for serious conversation. So I pouted on the periphery, resentful, and watched everyone bring ice and pillows to Rachel. I even remember standing at the top of the soft carpeted stairs, contemplating throwing myself down them. Then they'd notice me.

Since I have plenty of experience envying a younger, cuter sibling, you'd think I'd be more sympathetic when Frances complains of all the attention Gabriel gets. This summer has brought an uptick in sibling rivalry, with outbursts of fierce competition threatening to ruin a number of perfectly good times. And their insistence on equal goods (down to the number of M&Ms, or hugs, or turns with the hose, or minutes of story-reading) can be so very tiresome.

Their relationship is intense - passionate, even - and it can flare in any direction at any moment. But their roles are distinct. Gabriel, who is more of a caregiver, will insist that Didi get a popsicle too, if he gets one while she is somewhere else. Frances assumes her brother is getting all kinds of things all the time, so she will ask for two popsicles and request that I please not give Gabriel any later. She's also been reminiscing about the time before he was born, telling us how great it was to be an only child.

Well. Early this week, for the first time ever, Gabriel spent two days all by himself on a special visit with Grandma. They had a great time, but Frances suffered. One night she announced she would not be eating dinner because it was simply awful that Gabriel wasn't eating with us too. One morning she called him and when he was too involved in something to want to talk, she was crushed. It's all wrong without Gabriel!! she moaned. When her beloved brother walked in the door on Tuesday she showered him with hugs and kisses, and kept on showering him throughout the afternoon, until he had to put his foot down. Didi. NO MORE KISSES.

Now Frances is at my mom's house. She's having a great time, but I must say, Gabriel is too. We all are. Mike and I took him to the pool late yesterday afternoon, and as we walked home together, he positioned himself between us and reached up to take both of our hands. What a sunny smile on his face! What a delight to have two parents all to himself!

Frances called this morning and asked to speak to Gabriel. She asked him if he was lonely. Not really, he said. But I miss you.

And that's the truth of it. It's a real gift when my mom takes one of the kids for a special visit, not only for the kid, but for the rest of us. We get to lavish attention on the kid left behind without risking a sibling blow out, and we get to miss each other. Frances discovered our family just isn't right without Gabriel in it, and Gabriel has had the opportunity to shine his light without being overshadowed. Balm for the embattled sibling soul - and respite for weary parents, too.

p.s. The picture above is of Gabriel with our new friend Lewis. He visited us last week, along with his exquisite parents Christine and John, and we all fell for him. When Gabriel saw Lewis's Superman onesie, he ran upstairs to put on his Batman pajamas.