Scarlette looked at us during dinner the other night and said “Hey, did you know there are THREE kids in our family?”
And we did know that, because Scarlette has invented herself a brother and a sister.
The first time I learned this was on the way to her grandparents house.
Scarlette: “My brother is SO ‘cited to go to Nana and Grandaddy’s house!”
Me: “Oh really?”
Scarlette: “Yeah, he is so ‘cited to wear his rocket pajamas in da car!”
Me: “Oh, I didn’t know he had rocket pajamas” (I also didn’t know she had a brother but that’s neither here not there.)
Scarlette: “Yeah, I bought dem for him da udder day. Dey were his size. He’s a 10. He’s WEALLY growing wite now. (Turns to the empty backseat) “Um, Brother? Could you pwease be QUIET so I can talk to Mommy about dis?”
Her brother’s name is Isaac and as we do not know anyone named Issac it’s either because I am totally rocking teaching her about the Bible or I am spending too much time rocking out to old school Hanson in her presence. It’s likely the latter.
Isaac likes to do crafts, is afraid of raccoons and when I asked her what color his hair is she she waved her hand casually as she shrugged and said “Oh you know, just blue-green.”
Sometimes she stands next to me in the kitchen and asks me if Issac can have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich too. “OH Isaac LOVES peanut butter and jelly!” she says.
When I tell her that no, I’m only going to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Scarlette right now, she turns to to the side and says soothingly “Oh, sorry Isaac. My mommy says no peanut butter and jelly. Dat must be so disappointing for you! Maybe you feel a little bit frustrated. MAYBE you can hab a bite of my sandwich maybe!”
(She used to have a brother named Tyler but apparently he broke his arm and had to get a cast and is never coming back. “REMEMBER TYLER” is what I am going to say to her when she tries to jump off the back of the couch again.)
(Just kidding. I’m going to go with my usual standby of “SCARLETTE VONNE GET DOWN FROM THERE RAT NAO!”)
The first time I met Scarlette’s sister, Kaitlyn, was when I was snuggled in bed with Scarlette, her little head resting on my shoulder and her arms wrapped around mine. “Ohhhh, look Mommy! Kaitlyn is snuggling with you! Dat is so sweet!” she said.
“Um, who is Kaitlyn, exactly?” I asked her.
“Oh you know. My sister. Kaitlyn. She is bery cool” she told me.
Kaitlyn, apparently, has pink hair and likes soccer. She is not afraid of anything. Especially not raccoons.
We took Scarlette to play soccer the other day, just me and her and J, and she kicked the ball into the goal and then jumped in the air yelling “DID YOU SEE DAT?! KAITLYN IS SO GOOD AT SOCCER!”
Then she moved over two paces, turned to where she had just been standing and said “Good job, Kaitlyn!”
Sometimes, halfway through a conversation she whispers to me “It’s not me, Mommy! It’s my sister, Kaitlyn” and then goes back to trying to convince me why she should have something that I just said no to. Because it’s not for HER, SCARLETTE. It’s for KAITLYN.
In the past couple of weeks Isaac and Kaitlyn have fed Lucy Dog Scarlette’s lunch, made a big mess in Scarlette’s room and refused to clean it up, and painted on the hallway wall with watercolors.
Scarlette, however, has been a perfect angel and hasn’t done a single naughty thing.
She can’t even understand why she has to do time-out when Isaac and Kaitlyn are obviously the ones misbehaving.
(This is not really a picture of her in timeout. This is a picture of her being annoyed at me for singing “all along the block tower” when her block tower fell over. She does not appreciate my Dave Matthew style parodys when she is trying to build a castle.)
I’ve been toying with the idea of getting a tattoo if I ever get over my intense fear of needles (which, turns out, is a serious problem for a girl who wants a tattoo) and a couple of weeks ago I joked to a friend that after raising Scarlette for the past four years, maybe I would get a Harry Potter inspired tattoo that read “Mischief Managed.”
And then Scarlette introduced her imaginary siblings.
So things just got real.
You know, parenting all these tiny invisible people and all.
(P.S. Have you grabbed a copy of my new book while it’s almost half off? If not, you totally should. Otherwise you’ll make Scarlette all pouty faced and no one wants that. Especially not Tyler, apparently.
(P.S. I found that super cute mug on etsy)