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.
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.