[photo credit: Katy Harrison Photography]
plural noun: siblings
each of two or more children or offspring having one or both parents in common; a brother or sister.
synonyms: brother or sister; brothers and/or sisters
I have a sister. We are fifteen months apart. We might as well be twins for all the stress I’m sure that caused my mother. It’s actually the reason I wanted my kids to be close in age and if the boy child hadn’t been such an adjustment (I’m being kind here and that’s another post for another time) they’d be even closer in age.
But the thing about these two is from the moment she arrived he was smitten and to this day he still says, “Baby, you’re my best friend” at least five times a day.
I spent the first twelve months of her life repeating, “BE GENTLE WITH YOUR BABY SISTER” like a stuck record because well he’s a boy child, but he’s never regarded her with anything but love.
Oh my heart soars to the tune of I MUST BE DOING SOMETHING RIGHT every time I see their sweet devotion for one another but I know it’s not me. I know that for as much as I nurture it God has already written their sibling love story in the stars. The love story of a deep friendship that will last through eternity.
As I write this I can hear their chatter downstairs, playing on a ‘dinosaur train’.
“Baby!” (He calls her baby which is a whole other story), “do you want to go on a dinosaur train?”.
“Uuuuuuuuh, yip!” (I love how she pretends to think about her answers lately).
“Okay jump on! Toot tooooooooot!”
And then the air fills with their laughter and nonsensical babbling.
These moments are worth all the sleepless night feedings and early wake ups and constant minding; the pulling out of hair (mine of course, of which I have enough to see me through a hundred kids so no big deal and no I’m not having a hundred kids mom); crying on your friend(who has twin toddlers and a baby)’s shoulders about how hard it is to have two babies in the house and no family near by; soothing your same friend when it’s her turn to cry because she has TWIN TODDLERS AND A BABY; claiming that your husband’s commute time standing like a sardine on a packed train counts as downtime so he’d better have his A-game on as he walks through the door… All. The. Things. Are worth a it.