And it was. Olivia bragged she had more bottles, hence more medication, thus a more serious illness. Charlotte only saw a giant bottle. She felt that she was the sickest, and had the most pink, bubblegum, flavored liquid. She was the last one at the doctor, so this made her the sickest. Even the amounts in their medicine cups provided competition. Olivia has to take 7.5 ml twice a day. I have a wider medicine cup for that. Charlotte has to take 1 teaspoon twice a day. That cup is taller. So two times a day, there is the bottle comparison, and even as they drink the stuff, slamming the shot glasses down on the counter, they glare at one another.
This competitive spirit does not end at medication. It weaves it's way into every and anything we do, or say. Meal time is a constant comparison of who has more. I have to make sure the french fries are evenly distributed, or one of them will feel less loved, and whine, and dinner is ruined. If David tells Olivia she is beautiful, Charlotte will say "what about me Daddy?", and vice versa.
Is it human nature to constantly compare who has more? Are we always making sure that we get enough? Is this just hard wired into us, for survival purposes? I used to not think so, but observing the girls, I am beginning to question this. If Charlotte asks for a banana before bed, (and Olivia hates bananas with a passion) suddenly Olivia requires a piece of fruit. Is this survival? Ensuring you get what you got coming to you? Is it just competition?
Whatever it is, it is maddening. Some days, my patience for them is not equal. Some days, I like one more than the other, simply because they are making my life easier. It may sound terrible to say, but it's true. These snow days are really getting to me.
The icicles are growing longer and longer. Snow has fallen. School is closed, yet again. Now ice. I used to think the snow looked so pretty. Now I feel trapped by it.
I noticed that the houses up and down my block that are empty, don't have any icicles. There driveways remain blanketed in snow. No pathways shoveled to their doorways. Small animal prints in the snow is the only evidence of life. They look ghostly at night.
Chicken nuggets for lunch today. I better get the count right.