Yesterday one of her teachers asked E to tell me how many babies she has been opining we should really have. Three thousanty and nine! she sagely nodded to me, reaching her arms to the sky. I assured her that that is not to be. Well, why? she whimpered, crestfallen. “Well, for one thing, you have the biggest kid’s bedroom. So we’d have to move out your bookshelves and your dressers and your toy bench and all of your toys and books and everything to make room for so many cribs.” No, we wouldn’t, she asserted. We would just put all those babies in my bed and I’d rock them all to sleep because I have a lot of might. She flexed her biceps '80's-Venice Beach-style as evidence.
This afternoon one of her teachers asked E to tell me the name she has selected for us to bestow on the baby. Shahkshee Shahkshee, (sp?) (???) (?!!) she pronounced definitively. I asked her, “how do you spell that?” She spelled her own name. Because she’s the biggest sister, she explained. So the baby should have her spelling.
As a creature who truly believes she should dictate Manifest Destiny, we were apprehensive that news of our modifying family tree wouldn’t please that child one bit. But I’m starting to think:
she’s a teeny bit excited.