The other day when I walked to the next room to grab something, I heard this sequence of events:
Ryan: Conor! Tummy time!
Ryan: Riding horsey! Nee-ee-ee-igh!
Given that little sound bite of our days at home, I think that I still have a lot of time left in my role as bodyguard to Conor. Nonetheless, the job has come a long way since our first trip home as a family of four. It can't just be me that puts him down for to sleep; nope, "Conor coming?" Ryan checks when I throw the grenade of potential bedtime in our evening conversation. "Wook, Conor, wook!" the big brother commands throughout the day. A couple of days ago, I was frantically trying to get us out the door, Conor was wailing in his car seat and Ryan's heavy little snow boot stomps were marching around in any direction but the garage. I called out jokingly to Ryan that he should rock Conor's car seat. Much to my surprise, when I no longer heard the very dramatic shrieks of our second born, I peeked over to where the car seat was only to find Ryan rocking it and parroting, "It's okay, Conor, okay Conor, okay," and the ends of Conor's mouth turned up into a smile.
I know that many, many fights and disasters are to come ... especially when Conor actually starts to take Ryan up on his sharing, and Ryan realizes that the other person actually plays with the item you share. If you could have seen the fights my sister and I would get into! And we are best friends!
But, on a day like Tuesday when I had to mediate the baby-handling that was occurring often, often and more often and I am just flat-out exhausted from life, I remember last week when I was bustling around putting week-old clean laundry in their respectful drawers. I heard Conor laughing which is still news-worthy because he has only been on this earth of three months. I peeked into the bedroom/home of laundry mountains and saw Ryan repeatedly dropping a football onto Conor's sweet belly. The baby thought it was hilarious or ticklish or because the guffaws and giggles were coming one after the other. They were having a ball. So somehow, through a toddler who escapes boundaries because the purpose of boundaries escapes him and a baby with an interesting sense of humor and among the more frequent yowls from the younger brother and the near-compulsory confessions from the overly honest older, I see a little budding brotherly bond that I will never be a part of. The cockles of my heart are warm, and that memory is like a shot of necessary espresso that gives me the energy to begin another day of full of peeling the unintentional bully off the innocent babe.
I didn't get a video of the whole football dropping comedy act, but I did capture the second time Ryan made the guffaws and giggles roll out of our roly-poly. I think it's a day-changer, but you know ... biased mama over here.
I don't get the joke, but I like it. from Katrina on Vimeo.
You guys ... this is fun. This is really fun.
Psssst ... have you entered the giveaway? Last day!