Sam learned everything she needs to know about how to be a big sister Wednesday. In one hour. Surrounded by three boys who are also 4 years old, and who are going to be big brothers.
She even has a certificate to prove she's ready to be a big sister. It's got a lot of words on it she can't read, but she recognizes her name, which is good.
I'm not exactly sure, however, that all of the lessons will stick the way they were supposed to.
Last Friday, we had some family pictures taken here at the Daily Record by Bil Bowden, one of our outstanding and infinitely patient staff photographers.
My husband -- who had all four impacted wisdom teeth out on Halloween and reinjured himself just as he was starting to feel slightly normal -- really didn't want his picture taken because he's still a chipmunk (but just on one side).
I am hugely pregnant and swollen and was still fighting to make my last haircut look even slightly presentable, so I wasn't exactly ecstatic about jumping in front of a camera. (All right, fine, I don't "jump" anywhere anymore. I walked slowly and carefully in my 3-inch heels, hoping there would be no accidental shots of me from behind.)
For Sam, there was nothing more exciting in the whole wide world.
So we've been working on the difference between kidding and lying with Sam.
For example, she asked us in the car a few weeks ago: "If I say Daddy has pink hair, and he doesn't, that's a lie, right?"
Me: "Well, it depends on who you say it to and why you're saying it. If you say it to me, I know Daddy doesn't have pink hair, so I know you're kidding. But if you go to Aunt Debbie's and tell her and Bethany and Josiah that Daddy has pink hair now and try to make them believe it, then yes, it's a lie."
Sam: "But Daddy's hair's not pink."
