I was not prepared.
I only had a brother.
One brother who kept to himself in his monochromatic sweat suits,
silently watching a 9” TV screen way too close, while eating microwaveable burritos.
He was peaceable, quiet, and unassuming.
He had transition lenses.
I was feisty, outgoing, and bold.
I had ears I’d pierced myself using an upholstery needle.
My brother Darren once got placed into a trash can his freshman year by a well-known jock named Branch.
At my command, yelled across the quad,
Branch removed him from the trash.
My brother and I were opposites.
We still are.
The only battles we really ever had were because I would poke at him just to illicit some sort of reaction.
My version of waving a hand in front of his face.
Where was the fire inside?!
Where was the passion for existence?!
It wasn’t in monochromatic sweat suits,
that was for sure;
so I felt it my sisterly duty to help draw them out.
You know.
To help.
Sometimes by rubbing his buzz-cut backwards with a rubber mail-sorting thumb.
Sometimes by a pinch walking by.
Helping – We all have our methods.
I have since apologized for my big sister bullying antics.
He forgives me.
He also lives three hours away.
I knew nothing of sisters back then.
All my life I’d heard girls were sugar and spice, and everything nice,
and that sisters could be your lifelong best friends,
But now
I feel tricked.
Because These. Girls. FIGHT.
They fight first thing in the morning,
they fight before they go to bed.
They fight while they brush their teeth,
and while they eat their dinner.
On a box.
With a fox.
Bury my head under the rocks.
They fight.
I have woken up from deep sleep between
2 and 4am multiple times to them in a slap battle in the dark directly beside my bed.
Every day it’s:
“She won’t stop mouthing the words while I listen, and it’s so annoying!”
“She wiped chocolate on my clean sheets.”
“She looked at me with eyes that looked like laughing, and it’s not even fuuuuuunnnnnny!”
“Her breaf is too hot and it smells wike sawami!”
The list feels longer than a CVS receipt.
And now that we are in a much smaller house,
it requires much more effort for any of us to remain annoyance-free.
Someone is always right next to you here.
Someone is always chewing, or tapping,
or doing that THING you can’t stand.
Basically, we are the grandparents in Willie Wonka –
All in one bed,
Just laying there pressed toe to toe.
Every day I say the words to them,
“If someone is annoying you, then just walk away.”
Only now there aren’t as many places to even go.
It’s like we’ve all been thrown into some form of country immersion therapy.
Except I can’t help but feel it’s only for their good to learn these lessons now,
when they’re young and shoved face-to-face.
To learn how to maneuver in a space with someone who thinks and acts differently than they do.
It’s one of life’s most useful lessons, after all.
I see so many people these days who clearly never learned this lesson.
The one that it’s alright to think and feel differently from one another,
but that we are all still in this small space together trying to make our life here work,
so we need to TRY.
I tell the girls weekly,
“All of your life you are going to be forced to be around people who are difficult for you to love.
The best thing you can do is learn how to be loving to the one you deem unlovely.
To focus on your small common ground.
It doesn’t mean that you give up yourself.
It means that you FREE yourself.”
Life is a dance with partners we didn’t know before we all showed up here dressed in our finest against the wood-paneled wall.
Awkward at first.
Holding our breath.
Smoothing our hair.
Not sure how to show our true selves.
But if we could just listen to the music and let it move us…
If we could just breathe, and learn to just share this space,
maybe we can sway with the one we are facing.
Maybe we can all dance together
here in our common ground.
Mom Outnumbered
Hi! My name is Kerri Green; Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters -Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige. I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider, a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things, and the author of Mom Outnumbered; a blog about real family life, and my observations of it. My goal is to make people laugh, to be there for them when they cry, and most importantly, to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world. I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life. So welcome! Come in. Sit down. Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
