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I get that people do not agree with this woman having so many babies without an apparent means to support herself. I get that.

But death threats? Really? Whose crazy now?

I can handle the whys of the two year olds. Why is that blue, why can’t I have a chocolate bar, why do I have to wear pants. Those are easy questions. As the kids get older, the questions get harder. They start to reason. They start to pick out hipocricy like editors picking out misspellings. They apply it to their own lives. Why does he get to stay out later and I have to go in? Why does she get new Pokemon cards and I don’t?

Yesterday Army Boy (7yrs) asked me one of the hardest questions. No, it wasn’t about the birds and the bees. A weight-loss commercial came on and he said “Mommy, why does everyone want to lose weight? Why do they say “WOW” when they lose weight? What’s so good about it?”

How do you explain societal pressures on thinness to a seven year old?

I stumbled a bit. Telling him that sometimes there are people who need to lose weight to be healthy. Because there are lots of diseases that can happen when you are too heavy. Diabetes, heart disease… but that some people lose too much weight and that’s not healthy either. Plus sometimes people like to be thinner because they think it means they can do more things. But really, you just need to be healthy and as long as you go to the doctor and he says you’re healthy, you are probably at a good weight.

Like you, I said, you’re very healthy and in great shape. You don’t need to worry about how much you weigh right now.

I hope it was a sufficient answer! At least I got to practice on the child that least likely to develop an eating disorder, when the daughter asks that it’s going to be much more difficult.

And, to complicate things, I started Weight Watchers yesterday, too. I have about 40 lbs to lose. But first let’s start with the 10% and then we can discuss the rest of the poundage. I don’t want to drop the weight fast, I just want to eat healthier and learn new recipes that will help me return to a healthy pre-child weight.

ArmyBoy: Look at that big spider?

Me: oooh!

ArmyBoy: Oh, wait, maybe that’s not a spider. I think it’s at tit.

Me: . . .

ArmyBoy: There are lots of tits in Calgary you know!

Me: . . .

ArmyBoy: They bite.

Me: Do you mean ticks?

ArmyBoy: Yeah, that’s what I said!

He always has been a boob man. Must have been that extended breastfeeding.

… no no, not the TV show, though it’s quite good… but real life Brothers & Sisters. The ones that bicker and fight and steal the spotlight from one another.

In theory.

In our house there have been no major battles outside of the odd bite or discussion of why someone gets to do something (”because she’s a baby”) and the other one doesn’t (”because you are a big boy, and if you want to be treated the same as the baby sister then I’ll go get you a bottle and  you can go for a nap”).

Overall, it’s peaceful and I attribute that to one thing: Army Boy is a very, very good big brother. He was there when she was born, watched her being born (all that boring sitting around waiting and just a few minutes of excitement, what’s up with that?) and has treated her like HIS SISTER from the moment she arrived. I’ll always remember when she was just a few days old and woke up in a fuss from her nap in the cradle, which sat in the living room. Army Boy, at just five years old, went and picked her up,  one arm around her and another under her bum. Apparently I was taking too long in the kitchen.

I had a moment of panic when he came around the corner, clutching her to his chest as she squirmed. I knew I couldn’t get mad, he had simply been trying to help. And he was so proud that he could. So I gave him more things to be responsible for: getting her a toy or a blanket, tickling her toes when she was upset, singing her a song. He had a few songs, my favourite was simply to sing her name and say “It’s ok” when she was upset. Even now, when she’s almost two, it will calm her right down. He took his job seriously and when Grandma would bath her, he’d sit right next to the tub and give Grandma instructions. “Keep your hand on her Gramma, don’t let her head go under Gramma, don’t let the water get in her eyes Gramma.”

She’s in a place right now where she’s learning to be kind. The other morning as we were getting ready to leave, he was sitting nicely, watching some TV and she tackled him and bit his shoulder, just like that. He was understandably upset. But he didn’t retaliate. He’d never retaliate.

Some days she refuses to hug and kiss him, even when he asks. We don’t know whether to make her hug and kiss or just hug and kiss him ourselves and tell him that it’s ok to not kiss and hug when you don’t feel kissy and huggy. He seems to understand, but he is sometimes sad when she refuses. He loves her.

In the picture up above she is giving him a sorry hug after one of her “tackle and bite” sessions. Learning to say “sorry” is becoming a priority, since she needs to say it so often! But Army Boy doesn’t complain, doesn’t take it out on her, he accepts her sorry as though it will not ever happen again.

Best. Big. Brother. Ever.