The girls have come over to our house several times in the last few weeks, so we are (hopefully) getting used to each other. The girls are figuring out what they can play with and eat here, and Emerson and Hibiscus are figuring out the limits of their relationship. Since they are both naturally limit-testers, there is quite a lot of experimenting involved!
I decided last week that I will try and multiply and conquer. One day, I hope that my children will learn to share and take turns and be respectful, but for now, having all the desireable objects in triplicate. I also plan on getting little mats for them, so that each child can choose to play on his own mat, which means that no one else can touch him or his things at that time. Today we had our first experiment with that principle: last week both girls had wanted to play with Emerson's special "baby," so we later went to the craft market and bought two more dolls.
The dolls were immediately beloved! Perhaps I have gotten so used to little-boy play that I have forgotten the ways that little girls play, or perhaps I have girly-girls on my hands and don't know it yet. At any rate, we have a toy shelf full of building materials, small cars, animals, coloring materials, workbooks, and other small things, but we are very low on dolls. (I consider all of those not gender oriented toys, which maybe is why I didn't think of them being not-girly.) Hibiscus immediately took hers, examined it all over, and took off all her clothes. She didn't think the underskirt was made right, so she wanted to sew it up, and once I gave her a needle and thread (not matching the white underskirt, "RED mommy, RED!") she carefully made some large and messy childlike stitches. Then she dressed her all back up again, and found some scarves and wrapped the doll in the scarves, and rocked and cradled her. She handed her to me while she went to get something, and beamed when I cradled her gently in my arms too. I was holding Buttercup at that moment, and then Hibiscus wanted to take a picture of me and Buttercup and all the dolls! She arranged us very carefully and stared through the camera very intently, and took so long to actually take a picture we were all in great danger of disintegrating from our beautiful pose!
Meanwhile, Emerson either did the same thing she did, which was either entertaining or driving her crazy, or some new thing, which was either entertaining or driving her crazy. He was not supposed to pick out the same color scarf to be a blanket for his doll, but he wasn't supposed to jump on the bed either! Actually, they played together quite well today. Some days there has been a great spirit of collaboration, and other days they have been at each others throats (or more accurately, at each other's toys); today they both seemed to be trying to figure each other out. There are different opinions about how much of a routine or how strictly adoptive parents should enforce house rules at the beginning, but the parent with a resident 4-year-old has little choice. He even went so far as to read her "the F--- family policy" about asking in a polite voice, which I am quite sure is entirely beyond her both in language and in concept. Who knows if she has heard people asking politely often enough to have a sense of what it means; I gather that in her world, people mostly took what they wanted, either directly or from the person who already had the object! (Thus climbing on the table, including knees, to reach something on the other side.) The language is another confusion. Emerson is having trouble grasping that someone who can say "no Emers, not on my bed, you go THAT bed, is you bed!" cannot also understand a discourse on the reasons and values and future intentions of the person who is jumping on the wrong bed.
Buttercup involves a great deal less drama. While the older ones were getting involved in their toys, she was wandering around, so I tried to help her find something to engage her. I offered her the bag of little stacking cups, which she happily trotted off with. Once in the living room, she took the bag and shook it vigorously upsidedown, and watched as the cups bounced and scattered to all corners of the room with great delight... and then immediately was off to play with something else. Oh yes, welcome back to the world of toddler play!
She also loved her doll in a two-year-old like way. She carried it around by the skirt or a leg, and when the older ones were wrapping their babies in scarves and putting them to sleep, she clutched the baby's leg in one hand and the scarf in another for quite a while.
I hope that she doesn't get overlooked for parental attention between her dramatic older siblings. I imagine that some times the older ones will play with more independence and attention span (as preschoolers are wont to do) and I can spend some time with her. If that is just a vague daydream, there is school to send the big ones away to! Meanwhile, I put Buttercup in a front carry to go back to the orphanage, which I think gives her a little more attention.
She and Emerson are beginning to develop a tender relationship, at least on Emerson's part. Although he was jealous of her ability to touch his toys at first, with a great deal of parental narrative assistance, he was able to imagine her point of view more easily. (Probably also because she gets to the toys more slowly!) He comes up to her offering hugs and kisses, which she finds kind of confusing and overwhelming, but doesn't actually protest. When Hibiscus was at school, they even started playing a chasing game, and ran back and forth between the rooms, Buttercup screaming with laughter. Emerson ran after her, but never quite caught up to her. What a good big brother!
But although it might be easier to be a big brother than navigate a relationship with a close-sized sister, I think he really enjoys the potential for truly mutual play. They have their moments when they are so happily engaged with each other, usually doing something ridiculous. I think once we can just settle in with being together and living together, and Hibiscus figures out that she can trust us, and Emerson figures out that no lasting damage happens to the toys, that they will give each other at least as much joy as they do frustration. And that's about the point of being brother and sister, isn't it?
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