Brotherly Love

Perhaps one of the most pleasant surprises that has come my way since having our third born son is seeing how my oldest two love to dote on him. They clamor around his crib to sing songs at the first peep he makes in the morning, both eagerly wait to take turns feeding him table foods, and I have to referee who gets to hold the baby so that he gets equal lap time between his older brothers. Clearly those boys are just as smitten with their baby brother as I am! This has been altogether surprising. Don’t get me wrong, I knew they would love having a new sibling but I had some strong reservations about how they would handle a delicate and helpless little one. I mean, their preferred love language is wrestling and rough housing! Several of my friends have little girls that have an inner “mini mommy” gene that kicks in when a younger sibling joins the crew, but what happens with boys when a baby is born? Does something kick into gear in their systems to let them know how to handle a tiny bundle? I feared our little one would need a helmet to guard him from the “headbutt kisses” that were bound to come his way. Since our oldest two are nineteen months apart, they are best friends and yet at many times, oil and water. Inseparable but contentious all at the same time. Usually the time they start laughing the loudest is immediately followed by crying from fun gone just a bit too rough.

The immediate change in our eldest’s demeanor towards his youngest brother was mind blowing. Normally rough and tough, he instinctively became gentle and very self-controlled when the baby was first placed in his arms. As his baby brother’s eyes met his, you could physically see his body melt. He softly sang and rocked the baby in his arms, lost in a sea of emotion. I think the notion of having someone so helpless in his hands conjured new feelings in him- a desire to teach, to lead, and to protect. Our middle son, only three when our youngest was born, showed a lot of interest in Baby but didn’t really know how to tame all that unbridled energy and, for the life of him, couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t allow him to poke the baby’s eyes and ears or sit on him (I know, I’m such a kill joy!). It’s taken some time and training, but Mr. Middle Child is coming to find that the best way to love on his younger brother is different than how he treats his older brother. And in the process, he is learning the art of being a big brother for the first time. He loves to show Baby his favorite books, bring him toys, and watch Baby Signing Time DVD’s to help teach his little brother how to use sign language.

Unlike new toys, Baby hasn’t lost his appeal. Now eight months and newly mobile, the boys enjoy cheering him on as he masters the art of speed crawling and cruising. Don’t tell them, but I think they feel partly responsible for all their baby brother’s newfound skills (to their credit, they have done a great job encouraging him!). At a recent well check, the boys stood by as our little one received a shot. I immediately picked the baby up to console him but found myself covered in a sea of little boys, my oldest on my right side trying to kiss the Band-Aided leg while loudly chanting, “It’s alright! It’s alright! It’s alright!” while Mr. Middle asked if we could go get the baby some ice cream because that always makes him feel better when he’s sad. That moment could have been a time of high stress; three children crammed in a small doctor’s office, one screaming and two talking over each other trying loudly to console the said crying one. But, in that moment, I felt a sense of deepest peace, knowing that their love for this little one may be loud and physical and at times need redirection but it is, after all, sweet brotherly love. That little guy probably still needs a helmet. But he’s one loved guy.