Having a Big Brother

I myself am a big brother to my little brother. I say little, he’s around six feet tall and 33 but you get the general idea. Likewise wifey is a big sister to a little sister. With the boy and Fifi, we both vicariously now have our first experience of different gender siblings.

And it’s not working out the way I had expected, truth be told. I expected Fifi to be something of a tomboy, and whilst she does get stuck in and enjoys scrumming & wrestling as much as her brother, she is also somewhat of a fashionista too. There are certain items of clothing she point blank refuses to wear and other dresses she hunts around for at the tender age of one and three quarters. Heaven help us when she gets older.

What’s surprised me in a good way is how careful the boy can be when it comes to looking after his little sister. Many’s the time we’ve both been told off by an irate 3 year old as he defends his sister from the wicked parents seeking to discipline her. What’s surprised me generally is how much of a ring leader little Fifi can be, dictating all sorts of naughtiness and leading her brother astray. What’s surprised me in a bad way is the uber aggression she can sometimes turn on, whacking her brother or us and even throwing things at us out of the blue. I think I had an unrealistic view of little girls and Fifi is quickly disabusing me of it :)

She is unbelievably lovely though, she’s been a bit poorly recently and when she kicked up a fuss after bedtime on Sunday, I ended up sitting in her room while she slowly went to sleep on me, patting my arm until she drifted off.

It must be odd having a big brother when you’re a little girl.