Isabella & Victoria
Recently, we dropped off Victoria — Isabella’s big sister — at the Broadway Conservatory for a 2-week program. That means that she will not be able to accompany us to the one and only visiting day at Isabella’s 7-week camp. We haven’t mentioned this to Isabella. She will be expecting Victoria. Whenever Victoria was away for a school trip — for as little as one night — Isabella is not right.
The two share a room, which Victoria complains about on occasion. Like any other little sister, Isabella will go through Victoria’s stuff. The way I see, Victoria leaves her stuff all over the place. It’s there for the messing. Isabella does not goes through Victoria’s closet. Though they are only 2 1/2 years apart, they do not share clothes, discuss boys, or style each others hair. Victoria does that with her girlfriends. Isabella does not do that at all, except discuss boys during a social worker-facilitated girls’ group in school. That’s a bit different.
They share parents, a brother, and most of all a home. That saying — “Home is where the heart is” — is somehow more true.
Three teens in the house. Living the dream! (FYI: for those of you who were never teenagers — this is sarcasm.) The angst! The communication breakdown. The fashion sense (or lack thereof)! Isabella experiences many of the same stuff as typical teens. Of course, there are differences. The most glaring to me, as her parent and as a former teen (yes, teens, I was once a teenager), is her lack of a social life.
Most Friday and Saturday nights, Vitoria and Zachary have plans. Victoria’s are, of course, made on Mondays and discussed throughout the entire week; while Zachary’s are made about 2 minutes before departing the house. Isabella has no plans — either planned or last minute. It saddens me as a former social butterfly. Here’s yet another piece of life that Isabella is missing out on.
While we were dining with my college roommate (with whom I spent many Friday & Saturday nights) and her husband , I commented that it was sad that Isabella was home and the other two were out. Kathleen replied, there are sadder things. Um. She was right. Was it really sad that my “different daughter” (that’s a good book title!) did not have a rocking social life? Isabella doesn’t care. Only I care. She never says why can’t I go out and hang out at Cadman Plaza and eat at a diner (Victoria’s activities) or watch my friends play on an X-box (what Zachary does). She doesn’t even ask why she doesn’t go to school with her twin brother. She is happy. Isn’t that what counts?
Each morning Isabella gets picked up by a van to deliver her to her school. The time that transportation arrives varies daily. We try to be ready at the same time each day. Sometimes, but not often, Isabella waits on our stoop. We usually leave the front door open and she yells in to us or runs back in to give me a kiss good-bye. (I get kisses good-bye from all my children every single day.) This morning Zachary got concerned. What if a stranger came by and picked up Isabella. I said that wouldn’t happen. Isabella wouldn’t leave her stoop to go in a vehicle with an unknown person. I asked Zachary if he was worried about Isabella today or for the future. He said, for the future. What will happen to her? Will she be able to live on her own? We really don’t know the answer to that question. We simply move forward believing yes, she will be okay.