If there hadn’t been a Susan B. Anthony, I’m sure someday Mara Joy would have become a household name among those demanding equal rights.
No matter why Micah gets attention, Mara wants equal attention. If we praise him for toddling across the room, she staggers across, imitating him. If we praise him for how he feeds himself, she gingerly lifts her spoon to her mouth, dribbling food down her chin. (Hey–it worked for him!) If we praise him for saying ‘Da-da-da-da,” then . . . well, you can guess what she says (equally loudly). Right now, she is banging a cookie cutter on the wall, her mouth gaping wide, staring blankly at me as she blinks while listening to the sound it makes, because Micah is banging a cookie cutter on the wall, mouth gaping wide, staring blankly at me while blinking and listening to the sound it makes.
Someone needs to learn that life isn’t fair, and we don’t all get equal treatment. . .
Nonetheless, this morning, Mara announced, “I’m going to be drouble!” (This coming after Micah had recently knocked a lamp off an end table, shattering the light bulb, and then opened a drawer, inadvertently discovering, to his delight, a whole package of new light bulbs.)
So, of course, my curiousity was piqued. “Why are you going to be trouble?”
“Because Micah bee-ed drouble!. . . I’m going to get out the light bulbs, and you’re going to say ‘Mawa, don’t be in drouble!'”