Upstairs, with the door closed, a set of markers and a pad of paper. That is where my eleven-year old daughter goes to find privacy. Privacy from her five-year old brother who can adore and infuriate her, all within a span of thirty seconds. Her privacy is always short-lived though, because he will search the entire house until he finds her.
You see, she is his hero and she doesn’t even know it.
He watches her every move. He imitates her. Sometimes for better and sometimes for worse. She is the one that comes to his rescue when Mommy and Daddy need a break. She is his “sidekick” when he goes to fight the “bad guys”. Or, maybe he is hers. I haven’t quite figured that one out yet. Either way, they are a formidable duo when properly motivated.
But sometimes, when she loses her temper. When she gets angry at him. When she is human. I tell her to remember that “she is his mirror”. Whatever he sees in her will be reflected back to him, and he will do the same. He looks up to her whether she likes it or not. It is a lot for an eleven year old to fully digest, but I think she gets it.