There is nothing like feeling protected. Safe. Free to live because no matter what life throws at you, there is someone who will be there. Someone you trust. Someone that trusts you. I think every parent hopes that their kids are this for each other. Our dream is that when times get hard or if the unthinkable happens, our kids will have each other's back. That there is always someone on the other end of the line at three a.m. when their heart has been broken or they need bailed out of jail. A friend to turn to when they don't make the team or when they risk everything but are rejected. Someone to stay up with all night long on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa. Or to stay on the phone with as they drive nervously to their first big job. That they feel the kind of safety that is bound by the superglue of learning how to share your toys or take turns. Bound by the love that grows every single day while sitting over a spaghetti lunch. Or blooms over their common love of broccoli.
I saw that love start growing between Pants and Plum when she was somewhere around three months. When my sweet boy suddenly wanted to hold his baby sister and he leaned in for a kiss
There are times when he seems to drink her in. He looks at her and knows her. It's enough to make my heart skip a beat when they really see each other.
And sure, he cannot seem to share a single one of his seven thousand Matchbox cars with her. Or his planes. Or trains. Or, well, you get the point. But something struck me this weekend. He is protecting her. I wonder how long he's been doing that without me seeing. I have been caught up in the lumps and squabbles and what seems like never ending battles for every single toy she attempts to play with. I missed somehow that beyond all of this he is also loving her. Protecting her. This morning, he layed a hand on her belly to keep her from rolling in the new flying saucer in our backyard. I didn't ask him to. He just did it. He protected her. Because he loves her. Because he knew, she needed his help.
| || |
And then she fell this afternoon and he asked her, "Yoo, OK? Wo-wa? Mama! HAY-ELP! (help)" as he tried to help her up. Even if he was a little exasperated when he couldn't lift her (I mean, she aint light) and kept saying. "C'mon c'mon!". She laughed at his attempts to help. He helped her anyway. Her giggle making them both fall into a back and forth giggle fest. She knew full well he couldn't (or shouldn't?) lift her. So she log rolled the ground and coaxed him into joining her. Because she protects him too. She really does. Even though she enjoys hitting him about the face and skull with her drum sticks (a girl's got to protect herself, man). I have seen the way she looks at him. With such love and excitement. I see her looking to him for guidance. Thinking he is so cool. And I see him guiding her. Showing her the way.
My hope is that they will be an anchor for each other. Getting through the arguments and anger (and hormones) that will no doubt come and find ways to come back together when life pulls them apart. Even if they are completely different people. Different religions or political ideas. I hope that none of that matters when it comes right down to it. I hope that they will always protect each other. The way that they do right now at the ripe old ages of three and one. They seem to already have it down. And I hope they never unlearn that.
By my side