Exactly 50% of the time these two get along. They are starting to play together like real, live sisters. They love running around, yelling, driving AH and I crazy. But good-crazy, I suppose, because happy yelling is certainly better than mad yelling. On rare occasions, they’ll play babies with each other (or Bee Bees, as Avery says). Sometimes they’ll lay one of their blankies down on the living room floor and pretend it’s a trampoline (better than the couch, I guess).
They’ll dance together, as they both have an intense and passionate love of music and rocking out. They’re both naturally talented at dancing; both very rhythmic and, according to Eirinn, they know all the moves. Sometimes on the weekend, AH will put on some grown up music really loud and the whole family dances along. This week was the Bee Gees. And they both have lovely singing voices, even if they are singing voices that only a mother could love.
And they also both love to colour. Ca, to Avery. Eirinn has always loved colouring; she called it cayer-cayer when she was Avery’s age. Avery will climb onto a chair and colour on her own, if she knows the art box is up there. And Eirinn is an excellent supervisor (I’m always in the room, of course, but she is the on-site super, if you will). The job requirements are: possessiveness over art box, ability to tattle-tell, extremely loud yelling voice.
But then there is that other 50% of the time. That time is filled with that mad yelling I was telling you about. They are both so loud. And also rough. And also they both suck at sharing. They already have knock-down, drag-out fights over dolls or books or crayons or pieces of insignificant fluff one has and the other one wants doesn’t want the other one to have. They push, they kick, they bite (Avery, I’m looking at you…), they scratch. And they yell. By God, they Yell. At each other, to each other, about each other.
I’ve heard this will either get way better or way worse. I’m clinging to hope that they’ll become best friends, but looking at that mean right hook of Avery’s and that flash of rage in Eirinn’s eye, I’m not going to count on it. We’ll hope for the best but plan for the worst. I think along with two identical of everything, Santa’s going to bring helmets and mouth guards this year.