I don't love my little sister because her chubby cheeks are cute, because her tiny nose is adorable, because the little ponytail she wears on the top of her head is absolutely endearing. I suppose I love her first and foremost because she's kin, but besides that, it's every new thing she learns how to do or say, every moment of self-satisfaction when she chooses to be carried by me, every time her childish soprano shrieks with happiness. Of course, my psychological deductions are neither accurate nor qualified. Turning to the never-ending fountain of scientific and behavioral knowledge, ScienceDaily, I perused through the psychology archives.
What I happened upon didn't surprise me once I finished reading it. It's all in the structure of a baby's face.There's a region of parental instinct in our minds, which Robin from How I Met Your Mother is clearly missing. Renowned zoologist Konrad Lorenz says that the big-cheeked, wide
foreheaded, bulgy eyed baby facial structure is the reason our brain
immediately registers it as innocent, helpless, and in need of
protection.
While I'm not sure how much the zoology theory applies to adolescents and other children, I can say that I don't think I loved little kids until my baby sister was born. Yesterday, I spent most of my afternoon volunteering at our local park's dock. My duties consisted of fitting customers with life vests and helping them in and out of boats. The girl working with me remarked that I seemed to handle kids and dogs the best, with all my "sweetie" and "kiddo" and "munchkin"-ing. In my mind, every kid I saw I compared with Kylie's timeline. The ones younger, I thought of her just a few months earlier, and the ones older I observed with anticipation and excitement for when my sister would be like that. It wasn't so much their unblemished faces and innocent grins as their funny remarks and all the little actions you start to notice when you've been watching people go by for hours.
I'm not sure that I really have a point today. Everything I've written is fractal and discombobulated. Basically, I love Kylie. My mom loves Kylie, my dad and my grandma love Kylie. Why do we love Kylie? Because she'll take one look at a laptop and demand "Elmo." Because when you ask her a question of responsibility or possession, any "Who" question, her response is always herself. Because she's happy and smart. I guess, well, because she's ours.
-Chichi
Showing posts with label elmo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label elmo. Show all posts
Monday, June 18, 2012
Monday, May 14, 2012
Sissy's Purpose
Mom: "Say hi to Sissy."
Kylie: [looks away]
Me: "Hi Yaoyao! Will you say hi to Sissy?"
Kylie: [shakes head] No.
Mom: "Yaoyao, say hi to Sissy."
Kylie: No. [points to kitchen counter]
Mom: [gives her what she wants - a packet of garlic green peas]
Kylie: Oooh, dou dou! [Translate: Yay, green peas!]
When we came home from my clarinet lesson, Kylie came and greeted Mommy and I at the door. Well, she walked right by me and into Mommy's arms. Same difference. It's the beginning of the Terrible Twos, so I'm told. I always thought that the Terrible Twos were something that affected parents, not siblings.For those closer in age, what was the worst years to share with a younger or older sibling? Usually, if I ask that question, I get the answer as four or five. Agreements? Disagreements?
Currently, I perform few roles for Kylie. I cut up her dinner for her occasionally, I provide the medium on which she watches her beloved Elmo's World, and I provide the lap on which she'll plant her tiny butt while indulging in reruns of Elmo's World. I don't mind, really. It's absolutely adorable. And with her talking so much, life is just so much more interesting. Our parents like to tell a certain story of me from when I was about Kylie's age. Some lost in time naughty task was performed, and some lost in time person asked: "Who did it?" Just learning to respond and speak when prompted, I answered immediately, "Chichi did it!" Kylie's response to that right now is just "Yaoyao!" No frills, no furs, just to the point. But it's nice to think that I wasn't the only toddler stupid with her responses. Silly kids.
-Chichi
Kylie: [looks away]
Me: "Hi Yaoyao! Will you say hi to Sissy?"
Kylie: [shakes head] No.
Mom: "Yaoyao, say hi to Sissy."
Kylie: No. [points to kitchen counter]
Mom: [gives her what she wants - a packet of garlic green peas]
Kylie: Oooh, dou dou! [Translate: Yay, green peas!]
When we came home from my clarinet lesson, Kylie came and greeted Mommy and I at the door. Well, she walked right by me and into Mommy's arms. Same difference. It's the beginning of the Terrible Twos, so I'm told. I always thought that the Terrible Twos were something that affected parents, not siblings.For those closer in age, what was the worst years to share with a younger or older sibling? Usually, if I ask that question, I get the answer as four or five. Agreements? Disagreements?
Currently, I perform few roles for Kylie. I cut up her dinner for her occasionally, I provide the medium on which she watches her beloved Elmo's World, and I provide the lap on which she'll plant her tiny butt while indulging in reruns of Elmo's World. I don't mind, really. It's absolutely adorable. And with her talking so much, life is just so much more interesting. Our parents like to tell a certain story of me from when I was about Kylie's age. Some lost in time naughty task was performed, and some lost in time person asked: "Who did it?" Just learning to respond and speak when prompted, I answered immediately, "Chichi did it!" Kylie's response to that right now is just "Yaoyao!" No frills, no furs, just to the point. But it's nice to think that I wasn't the only toddler stupid with her responses. Silly kids.
-Chichi
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