Brotherly Love, and Other Emotions
Fox was born at ten in the morning, and three hours later Wombat stormed the hospital with a balloon and a smile and a tiny stuffed fox (and my parents). His smile was shy in comparison to the one the nurse drew on his bright pink Visitor badge (“My favorite color! How did you know?”), and I experienced a brief (and rare for me) few minutes of absolute zen as I let my children, my boys, meet each other for the first time, on their own terms. I was clear across the room on a bed, on an ice pack, and unable, thankfully, to interfere. This wasn’t about me.
Wombat gave Fox the little stuffed fox, and Little Fox gave Big Wombat a big stuffed fox.
“It’s a mama and her baby!” he said, because, until then, all big/little combos were always such.
“No,” someone corrected him, “it’s a big brother and a little brother.” Paradigm: shifted.
As is well documented here, I was momentarily overcome with “feelings” about having another boy, and one of those feelings that was not just regret dolled up in pigtails and puffed-sleeve dresses was that I didn’t really know the ins and outs of a brother/brother relationship. I have a brother, Simon has a sister, my mom only had one brother, my dad only a sister. This was uncharted, and I am, by any account, a person who needs charts and graphs and maps and outlines and Venn overlaps and PowerPoint slideshows to diagram what, exactly, I’m getting myself into at every turn. I scanned the index of the “So, You Just Had a Baby, Sucka” handbook in the hospital room and came up empty.
Empty was good, though, because it meant more room to fill with the likes of this:
Not wanting to be one of those parents who’s all “Love your brother because he’s the only one you’ve got blaaaaaaah,” but also totally being one of those parents who’s all “Love your brother because he’s the only one you’ve got blaaaaaaah,” I stumbled into something while talking with Wombat that I thought worth mentioning here.
I told him that as he went through life he’d have to/get to share a lot of things with a lot of people–toys, benches, KitKats, one single experimental cigarette, secrets. Some of the things he’d share would even be actual people; he’d have to share friends, favorite teachers, maybe even a girlfriend in the event of an awkward elementary-school isosceles. Now that his new sibling was here, he’d have to share his parents with Baby Fox, and his grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles, and probably eventually some friends too.
He tilted his head up at me like your standard quizzical cartoon terrier.
“And sharing isn’t bad, right?” I reassured him. “You like it when people share with you. It’s just one of those things you do when you’re a nice person. And you’re a nice person.” He was silent, waiting for the “but.”
“But…” I dropped to a whisper “…not sharing can be really cool too. And guess what you never have to share, not with anyone, not ever?”
A stage-whispered “What?!”
“You never have to share being brothers with Fox. You are the only person in the whole world who gets to be his brother, and he is the only person in the whole world who gets to be yours. Isn’t that awesome?”
His face brightened with the reflection of gold emanating from an opened treasure chest.
They are my boys together and I am their mom together, but they are brothers to each other alone. They have something that I’m not a part of–that no one is a part of–and recognizing that has been a strange comfort to me, not just that they have this singular relationship but that this feeling of “yes, this is right”ness came to me as easy as anything ever has. It turns out I gave them to each other more than I gave them to myself.
It may not always be smooth sailing through these waters, and we may not have maps, but our boat is strong and our wheel manned by four pairs of steady hands (mind the drool on the littlest ones), and even just sitting here stock still on dry land thinking about it I can feel the wind in my hair and sense adventure on the horizon. Avast, my heart. It’s going to be quite a ride.
Right there with you: Two boys, no idea how a brother relationship works. I’m finding out though, more every day, and it is a glorious thing to witness (also intensely physical–at least my boys are–and occasionally a little worrisome with the head patting, hand grabbing, run-by face pets, etc.).
Okay, this is the second time you’ve made me cry in a month. Not fair!
Beautifully written!
You boys are so gorgeous.
That last black & white photo cracked me up!
Beautifully written, as always.
“It turns out I gave them to each other more than I gave them to myself.” – YES. THIS. A million times this.
I wanted another girl (because I had a sister) and now that I see my kids together it is so painfully clear that this is exactly as my family should be. Watching them now, as Damien gets older, is so affirming. I gave them something that will (hopefully) outlast me, or their dad. Giving them eachother is the best gift I could give either of them- and I hope they feel that way, too, when they’re grown.
making me cry the happy tears again
I get such joy watching my boys together. At just 2 yrs old, they are learning how to play together and be brothers. They shove and push and have jealousy, but they also pick each other up and bring each other toys and cups. And I always think about the wonderful relationship ahead of them. Together.
That last picture under the bed is perfect!
I don’t know what to say to this post other than “Awww!” Now I have the overwhelming urge to give my own brother a big hug. Unfortunately, what with me being in China and him being in Canada, that’s not possible for another 5 months, but maybe I can send him a nice Facebook message (haha). Really, though, it’s wonderful having a brother, and even when the waters are rough, it’s still pretty nice. And your boys are so cute!
[Shy reader moved out of lurking to say] Oh dear. What a beautiful, beautiful post.
The early months with my now toddler were so rough that the idea of doing it again makes me shiver, but I’m slowly gathering the courage, and the main reason is what you just described, is giving my little boy that friend for life.
You have no idea how these pictures brightened my day!
Thank you so much for sharing!
Simply love this post! Having two boys of my own this rang a bell with me, but I have never thought to explain it to them like this – that they will never have to share that relationship with anyone else. These photos are fabulous – so perfectly capturing this first leg on the road to brotherhood. Love.
Way too much cuteness for one post!
Several of these photos could win a photo contest!
This makes me want another baaaaaabbbbbyyyyy!!!!
this is so sweet, and I am pretty sure I melted, just a bit.
You have the cutest little guys.
what a great post and awesome photos!
I LOVE:
The photo of the boys in the basket
The sharing / not sharing explanation
I’m totally bookmarking this, as I’m due to give my big(ish) boy a little brother at the end of the month.
Ohmygod I think this is my favorite post of yours ever which is saying something because I have been reading forever! You articulate something which I have tried to explain before and struggled with. That my girls together are so much more than the sum of their parts and that one of the most joyful parenting experiences has been watching them grow to know each other! Xxx