So, we told the girls pretty early on that Trip was going to be joining us in June. I debated for a while as when to break the news to them, but the decision was kind of made for me when I kept having to stop making breakfast to go hug the toilet bowl every morning. There’s really no creative way to re-direct the children from the sound of you horking up an offering to the porcelain gods.

In any event, once we explained to the girls that there was a baby on the way, you’d have thought they’d won the lottery.  Coever was fist pumping and marching around the kitchen, while Morgan just laughed and giggled.  Not a bad reaction. Everyone has said that I’ve got two great helpers on my hands, and the girls certainly seem willing to do their part.

Morgan has taken Coever under her wing as they prepare to transition into big sisterhood for the second and first time, respectively.  Over the last couple of weeks, Morgan has been doling out little nuggets of sisterly advice for Coever to keep on file when the mantle of “Big Sister” falls onto her shoulders.  Once, while the girls were picking up crayons off of the floor, I overheard Morgan say to Coever, “You’ll want to throw out pieces like that. You wouldn’t want the baby to put it in it’s mouth and choke and die.”

Coever studied the nub of crayon, shrugged her shoulders in a “Hmm, good point,” kind of way and tossed it in trash.  Another time, Morgan saw Coever coming into the kitchen carrying a pair of scissors incorrectly.  Quickly, she reprimanded her sister, saying, “You shouldn’t carry the scissors like that! The baby could carry the scissors like that and trip and poke themselves and die.”

I’m was seeing a pattern develop here, so I talked with Morgan about it. We decided she should come up with some rules for Coever on how to be a big sister, but more importantly, rules that don’t ultimately end with the untimely demise of Trip.

Without further ado, I give you the Big Sister Rules, according to Morgan, a four and a half year expert on the subject.

Sunday, we spent a good chunk of the day with Morgan and Coever, cleaning out their room and their playroom.  Both rooms were overrun with stuffed animals, half dressed Barbies and scores of scrap paper from arts and crafts projects in various stages of completion.

Since we are coming up on the holiday season, Craig and I decided that before bringing in new toys, the girls should donate the toys that haven’t been loved on in a while.  Believe me, there were many of those.  You know you’ve got a lot of stuff when the whole clean up process is peppered with , “Oh yeah, I remember that!” and “Oh, man! I forgot I had that!” Goodwill is going to receive several hefty bags of plushies in need of good homes.

Surprisingly, Coever was the one who was tossing stuff into trash bags with reckless abandon. “Just get rid of it,” she kept saying as she scooped up Barbie hairbrushes, stray Legos and un-matched dress up accessories.  I held up a mini Kai Lan toy that Coever had begged, begged, begged for.  “Toss it!” she sang, as the trash bag got fuller.  Morgan, however, was tearing up as she bade good-bye to every leftover goody-bag doo-dad and toothless hair comb.  “But I — I need this!” she’d exclaim as she caught Craig tossing a cracked magic wand into the trash.  “Oh! Oh! This is my favorite thing ever!”she cried. I held up a naked, headless Polly Pocket.  “Really?” I said, “Then where’s her head?”.

Crickets and tumbleweeds.  Into the trash with Polly.

Sometime later, we were upstairs in the playroom separating items into keep, donate, and toss piles.  The girls were sorting through a mound of stuffed toys. Each animal or dolly was thoughtfully examined, given a few squeezes and sometimes a kind word.  The girls danced them around on the floor or on one another’s heads before relegating them to a pile.  As they got to the end, Morgan unearthed another one of Coever’s highly desired Kai-Lan dolls.

“Oh, Kai-Lan,” Morgan intoned to the doll, stroking it sweetly on the head,  “We have some terrible news.  Your sister. . .she’s been. . .donated.”

Seriously, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.