Wednesday, April 15, 2009


For Sale

One sister for sale!
One sister for sale!
One crying and spying young sister for sale!
I'm really not kidding,
So who'll start the bidding?
Do I hear a dollar?
A nickel?
A penny?
Oh, isn't there, isn't there, isn't there any
One kid who will buy this old sister for sale,
This crying and spying young sister for sale?
-Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends


This poem kind of relates how Sassafras and I have been getting along lately. Who knew her teenage years would start the day she was born? She has always been a hand-ful, and sometimes two. Sometimes even an extra leg-ful, or whatever rope-I-can-grab-ful.

Sass used to wander away in a store, let's just say Walmart, and not look back. Before she was one. James or I would follow her at a safe distance and watch to see what she was doing. She would never turn around.

To say she is independent is an understatement.

She walked at 8 months. She stood up from the middle of the floor and took two steps.

She sang several songs before she was one. I'm not just using Mommy Memory, we have a recording of it.

She broke both of her arms, in two separate incidences, before she was 4 and a half. One required pins and left a 4 inch scar. I asked the Dr. if perhaps she had delicate bones. No, they're fine, says he, just don't let her climb to the top of the tree, or dance across the back of the couch, or jump off of the podium at church. Let her? LET her? Riiiiiiiiiiiggggggghhhhhhht.

She has continued to make our lives interesting. She practices piano daily, without being asked, now that she no longer takes lessons. Did she practice while taking lessons? HA! Only when we duct-taped her to the piano bench.

Sass is our only brown-eyed child. They're not just brown though. They're deep and intense and they actually twinkle when she's happy, and smolder when she's furious.

She coins her own words. Yestertime, Having a tiny-little good time, and Barefooting (verb), among others, have firmly secured themselves in our family vocabulary.

She can sing really well, but usually chooses to create feline-opera noises at the top of her voice instead.

Sassafras has also always been concerned with making sure that everyone is included. It may have something to do with me, but she probably came that way. As a tiny girl, she would bring portions of cake/cookie/candies home to her brothers from a party or play date that only she was invited to.

She read the entire Harry Potter series before she turned 9.

When I read over this post, I'm reminded what a good, sweet, funny, intelligent person she is. Maybe I should just write down or mentally list all the things that make her so great more often. Maybe I won't sell her.

Although, the next time she is pissing me off with her nasty attitude, feel free to make me an offer...

5 comments:

logan said...

i love this! and i love you!

xo.

Mom/Grandmomma said...

If you lived closer ...... I would take my babies every chance I could. However, I will tell you that female babies will always be more of a challenge than male babies. Girls, in today's climate, will always have a need to assert themselves. Boys cleave to their mommas. Love y'all. Can't wait to see y'all in 5 weeks.

Rebekah said...

She definitely sounds like she's related to her dad and his family. I never knew a group of kids with so many broken bones. It's in the genes. But I'm sure she got so much of her sass from you. :P

Becky said...

There is nothing like a daughter! Your little Sass is a great kid!!! And you are a rockin' mom! Hang in there!

Super Happy Girl said...

I just read your "One Bad Kid" post.





There you go ;)