Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Life as a contact sport

We were online looking for Christmas dresses when I asked the blond twin to try on a dress from her closet. I wavered between two sizes before asking her to try on a dress. She has a couple different sizes in her closet so I knew it was an easy way to figure out the correct size. It was a simple request really. I wanted her to go upstairs, try on a dress, come downstairs and show me how it fit.

A few minutes after she went upstairs I heard thumping, banging and stomping. Then she yelled, "You hurt me." A few minutes later she came downstairs wearing the dress with tears in her eyes and a cut lip. She said she hurt herself messing around with her sister. I said I didn't want to hear about it because trying on a dress shouldn't be a contact sport. She was mad, but I was tired and didn't want to hear this current saga. For some reason with the blond twin, life is a contact sport.

I hear "I'm hurt" from her multiple times a day. Sometimes it's a little thing like running into a wall while she's talking and walking. Sometimes it's something big like cutting her lip while wrestling with her twin or playing with Holly. She always wants to tell me every detail of how it happened. I don't know how to tell her that I don't want to hear every detail. I usually hear the commotion and know how it's going to end. At this point I just want her to understand that not everything she does needs to end with her yelling, "Ouch."

When I tried to explain to her that she needs to be more careful, the blond twin replied, "You know you have a klutzy daughter." It's not that she's klutzy. It's more that she and her twin turn everything into a play date. Putting away the laundry becomes a game of toss the clothes. Taking Holly outside to go to the bathroom is a game of hide and seek in the bushes. Bringing the garbage downstairs is a foot race. It never ends.

What the blond twin doesn't seem to realize is she is three or four inches shorter than her twin now. A couple of years ago this wasn't the case. Now when they wrestle the brunette twin has a definite advantage. When they have a foot race, pretending to be hockey players, odds are good the brunette twin is going to take down her sister when she checks her into the wall. There's a never-ending list of ways the blond twin can get hurt.

I realize they will outgrow this. In a couple of years these will just be funny stories we talk about at holiday dinners. Until then I'll just continue to sigh when the blond twin says she's hurt and she'll continue to respond that she's just a klutz.

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