Brotherly Love

When I found out we were having a second boy my mind filled with images of my two boys hugging, playing nicely together, sharing a brotherly bond over a bowl of ice cream while birds sang in the back ground. There may have even been the song "My Best Friend" by Tim McGraw playing in the background. To say that reality has been anything but that would be an understatement.

From the moment we brought Logan home Evan made it very clear he was not as happy to be a big brother as we thought he would be. In fact, one situation that will remain engrained in my memory forever took place a month after we welcomed Logan into the world.

After a couple of days/weeks in a row of Logan crying (he had colic, something that left us all on edge) Evan decided he couldn't take it anymore. As I was in our master bath getting ready for my first dinner out with friends since having a big juice (a nickname one of my nurses in the hospital gave to Logan because of the sheer size of him). I had Logan on the bed propped up on pillows and he was crying as usual. I was trying the best I could to get ready and tend to him and Evan, when all of sudden everything went quite. I peeked my head around the corner to see if Logan had cried himself to sleep when I saw Evan holding a pillow over his head. I freaked out and lunged/jumped/physical flew over to the bed to get the pillow off Logan's head. I was so freaked out that I screamed at Evan and asked him what he thought he was doing. To which he replied "I was making him stop crying!"

I didn't find this funny at the time (I instantly had visions of the Good Son bouncing around in my head), but now I can look back and laugh.

I wish I could say that Evan's dislike for his brother stopped there, but it didn't. As the months went by Evan would conjure up new ways to torture Logan. From taking away his bottle while he was drinking it, to throwing his beloved blankie across the room as he was cuddling with it, to pushing him down when he started to walk. As you can imagine, this kind of behavior stressed me out to no end. I read countless articles, books, and blogs over it and ever talked to our pediatrician about it. All of which yielded the same result; boys will be boys and eventually the will love each other.

After countless nights of crying, wine, and grey hairs I'm starting to see a shift in their relationship. They are starting to really play together. Evan will say that he wants Logan to come with us on errands, and just the other day he told me Logan was one of his best friends (picture my heart bursting into a million little happy butterflies). Evan even took up for Logan the other day when he was in the middle of one of his temper tantrums and told me to leave Logan alone and then tried hugging him.

Don't get me wrong, they still fight and I still feel like a referee half the time but the tables are turning.

As the images of brotherly love slowly creep back into my head, but on a much more real level I can't help but think boys will be boys and they will love each other the rest of their lives.

Evan showing Logan where he really wishes he'd stay

Brotherly Love

This Too Shall Pass

Wow! I realize it's been awhile since I've written a post, but to say life has been a little on the chaotic side would be an understatement. For awhile there I was in survival mode. Enduring one illness after another since Thanksgiving (yes, you read that right I did say Thanksgiving) in my family. With strep, ear infections, sinus and upper respiratory infections, the flu, and a stomach bug ripping through my household like a tornado it's been crazy. Throw the holidays and the craziness at work with the New Year kicking off in there, I haven't really had the time or energy to sit down and write.

As we went from one bad thing to another, I couldn't help but feel upset and bitter. Maybe it was the sleepless nights? or the umpteenth time I walked from downstairs up to the boys bedrooms to rock them back to sleep? Or the thrown food on the floor after I had cooked their favorite food to try and tempt them to eat? Or the temper tantrums that ensued because they didn't know the words to tell me how bad they felt? Or the fact that I seemed to catch every illness they got so I was feeling run down too?

Whatever the reason was it left me with a short fuse and a bunch of unanswered why's. Why I thought this parenting thing was a good idea? Why I was getting the short end of the stick? Why did the boys only want me when they were sick and not their dad? Why did I feel this angry?

Then it hit me, this isn't about me or the sickness or the lack of sleep. It was about feeling helpless and my desire to protect my family and not being able too. I couldn't help but have my mom's words ring in my ears louder than ever "This too shall pass." When she had told me that before I dismissed it as another stupid saying, but for some reason it all made sense to me now. And it turns out she was right, it did pass. After many tears and rounds of antibiotics we all started to feel better, and all my angry feelings went away. They were then replaced by guilt over my irrational thoughts, but that is something I deal with everyday. I think as a parent that loves and cares for their children, you can't help but have irrational thoughts. So the next time you start to feel angry and question a stage you are in life that isn't the most pleasant, just remember this too shall pass.

 

 

The flu didn't stop this little boy from opening presents
 

Candy canes always make you feel better