The week before Mini Me's surgery, there was constant fighting at home. You know the kind that occurs between big brothers and little sisters. One night, I tried to explain to my boys that what their sister was about to go through was very serious and if they could muster up a little kindness for her, it would be really great.
Isn't there a saying that goes something like, "If mom yells, `Please stop torturing each other,' in the woods, does anyone hear?"
The day of Mini Me's surgery her big brother's fasted and prayed for her. It was their first experience fasting. To their 10-year-old credit, they did it willingly and without complaint.
After Mini Me came out of recovery and was moved up to her hospital room, they each gave her a kiss on the forehead and then went to grandma and grandpa's to spend the night.
Later that night, when Mini Me was feeling her worst, she wanted to call her "boys." I told her that it was 10:30 at night and that they were already in bed, but she insisted that she had to talk to them. So we called.
When she had them on the phone, she tearfully told them that she missed them and asked if they could play Super Smash Brothers when she got home.
I think that is when the magic happened. In that moment my boys understood how much they meant to her and how much she meant to them.
Since Mini Me has been home from the hospital her brothers have been so good to her. They play with her and fetch things for her. They make her lunch and let her pick what they will watch on TV.
Most touching of all, I think, is that Mini Me is wearing a bandana to cover the horsehoe-shaped incision and 16 staples on the back of her head. Her brothers, in an effort to show solidarity, have decided that they want to wear bandanas, too.
I wish that this isn't what had to happen for my kids to get along better, but seeing their little sister at her most vulnerable has changed things at my house...
...at least for a little while.