Brotherly Bonding (Or, WHY ARE YOU SITTING ON YOUR BROTHER??)

The pictures I’m posting here are by no means good quality photos.

Proof.

I’m posting them because on a day like today — a day laced with whining and pushing and shoving, a day when the older brother was being bossy and the younger brother was not havin’ it — I need to remind myself why it’s a good idea that we have Two Children.

They wear these old scarves better than I ever did.

(As opposed to the much quieter Only Child, which is what Kostyn would be if we’d had the good sense to stop while we still outnumbered the kids in the house.*)

Even the drums have multiplied.

But we didn’t; we forged right ahead and had another, tried for another even. And now we have two.

Two kids who are this close in age (21 months apart) means a good deal of my time is spent refereeing their domestic disputes. Who was playing with the drum first?! and Whose turn is it to use the piano?!? and WHY ARE YOU SITTING ON YOUR BROTHER???? are all things I find myself saying with alarming frequency.

Overall they're great playmates but they are at slightly different developmental levels, which adds to everyone's frustrations. Kostyn wants to sit and play in a more cerebral way, making up intricate rules and characters and directing the action. (“No, no, Evan, don’t sit there sit here!”)

Evan wants to charge through the toys, his attention flitting from a book to a train to a basket of blocks and back to his brother, always back to his brother, as he tries desperately to please a demanding 3-year-old. (Believe me I know the feeling, little guy. It’s nearly impossible.)

Bottom line is by the end of a day like today I am worn thin, and they are both still craving attention — from each other and from me.
 

....or Daddy.

A day like today can do a darn good job of erasing from my brain the knowledge that they are actually best friends.

 

Proof.

 So I pawed through some recent photos to remind myself. And I thought about how when Kostyn is offered a treat for peeing in the potty his first words are “Can Evan have a treat too?”

Goofing around in Kostyn's bed.

And how Evan follows Kostyn like a groupie — singing when he sings, running when he runs, playing how he plays. No matter how often he gets it “wrong” in his big brother’s eyes, the little brother tries again to please, and even impress.

Living with a sibling is a learning game. How tight to hold on, how fast to spin, how far to stretch away from the one person who is becoming more tied to your identity every day. I know they'll figure it out; looking at these snapshots helps me to re-realize that.

 Lucky for them, they've each got a best friend along for the ride.


[*No offense, Evan; I couldn’t imagine my life without you.]