Lucy and Lily

These lyrics are from “Little Known Facts,” from the musical You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown:

Do you see that tree?
It is a fir tree.
It's called a fir tree because it gives us fur,
For coats,
It also gives us wool in the wintertime.

And way up there,
Those fluffy little white things,
Those are clouds,
They make the wind blow.
And way down there,
Those tiny little black things,
Those are bugs,
They make the grass grow.

D'you see that bird?
It's called an eagle,
But since it's little it has another name,
A sparrow,
And on Christmas and Thanksgiving
We eat them.

My sophomore year in high school, the play was You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown. I worked on the sets. I loved going to rehearsals and eventually knew the script as well as the actors, especially the girl who played Lucy, who botched this song every single time. Super annoying, especially to those of us who auditioned but didn’t get parts.

I often think of this song when I overhear Lily and Lewi have a (one-sided) conversation. Lily is a self-appointed expert on virtually everything and, being two years older than Lewi, feels compelled to pass her vast wisdom on to baby brother  (“That’s a hawk, Lewi, but sometimes they are called an eagle hawk”).

On our way to church she explains about Moses (I think). In the way of most children, it’s a confusing mix of a variety of Bible stories, cartoons, and dreams: “Then they threw all the babies in the river. And there was a snake, and Moses held it up and turned it into a cobra.”

When she’s talking with Lewi, sometimes I correct her , but usually I tune her out. She’s practicing language, and I don’t want to discourage her. Most of her comments can’t really cause harm, and if Lewi is as attentive to her as he is to me, all of her sage offerings have evaporated long before they get anywhere near his brain.

I’m less inclined to ignore her attempts to educate me, and she gets super grumpy when I tell her that, yes, I know a few things about how the world works, and that her unsolicited advice isn’t helpful to me.  I’m especially prone to jump on her when she tries to speak for Lewi, who is perfectly able to speak for himself.

Tossed into the role of protector at a young age, Lily seems unable to reclaim her role as a child; she thinks she’s an adult. She also listens to every conversation and happily, and often inappropriately, inserts herself into each one. She might be one of those kids who was kind of born older, but a lot of it is adoption behavior, traits that tend to crop up among adopted kids. Plus she joined a family dominated by teenagers. She’s a natural mimic, so it’s likely she copying some of their behaviors, not understanding that what flies at age 18 doesn’t at age eight. It’s been hard to teach her appropriate social skills, and I worry how she does with her peers.

It’s sad that Lily’s childhood was cut short, and it’s sadder still that she seems unable to reclaim it.  That said, it’s really only sad to me. She seems to be a happy kid. Her attitude suits her, I guess. She enjoys being a little adult. And she does have some delightful childlike moments, like when she plays soccer and when she chooses to dress up like a princess for Halloween every year.

She’s like everyone else in this family: a blend of intellect and immaturity that can most graciously be called quirky. She’s her own person, but she fits right in.

I thought I would be better at this parenting stuff by now, but I’m still learning. Instead of trying to change her, I need to accept her, encourage her, correct her (occasionally), and help her find her unique way, not the path that I choose for her. We will grow up together.