Attack of the Brother

Oh blessed night, the night my children both slept until morning -- if only my bladder would allow me the same uninterrupted bliss! Yes, in what I believe to be the FIRST TIME since sweet Sam was born exactly six months ago to the day, both of the boys slept from around 8pm last night until shortly after 7am this morning. I was awakened to a sound that I can only imagine will become the running soundtrack of my life for the next 18 years or so -- two little voices happily talking their own little languages to themselves. Sam's was that sweet little baby cooing that makes a mother feel like she might actually be on her way to successfully raising a well-adjusted, happy child. Gabe's was the now-familiar monologue of Star Wars-laden idioms laced with a few comforting phrases to his dear Mermaid doll (yes, the Mermaid, Ariel, whom we believe to be his sometime girlfriend and sometime child). OK, so I couldn't really hear what Gabe was saying exactly, but I've heard it enough to give it an educated guess.

Things got interesting after I took Sam downstairs for breakfast. Gabe came down a few minutes later and parked himself on the beanbag in his playroom (a.k.a. my future dining room). This is not his normal procedure -- usually, he tends to make himself known upon arising. When I poked my head in to say hello, he said, "Just go 'way. I'm talk to Mermaid." I at first feared a potty-training reversion because in his diaper days, this would have been a clear indication that brownies were a-bakin'. But he assured me that he just needed to have a chat with his buxom red-headed friend, who, by the way, has an alarming propensity for crying, if Gabe is to be believed. I went about my morning, and he went about his playing, which of course included his morphing into Anakin Skywalker sans shirt a la the animated Clone Wars series. Once I finally got him fed and dressed for his last (stifled sob of distress) day of preschool for the year, he asked to take Mermaid with him to school and even grabbed a small comb for her lovely velour hair. We had just turned off our street when he explained the reason for Mermaid's current bout of tears -- she had a boo-boo. "Da monster bat her," Gabe told me. "What?" I said. "He bited her." This is where the flashback sound effects come in. Just yesterday, Gabe bit Sam right on the chest sending me into a squall of motherly fury and weepiness. Needless to say, several intense discussions ensued, along with the suspension of all Star Wars viewing until further notice. Van and I were both shocked even though we know intellectually that this is normal behavior for siblings. (Yes, Dr. Deeb, you warned me not to leave them alone together because Gabe would do something mean to Sam.) We just haven't really seen this kind of behavior from our kid, so it sort of rocked our little world. Well, apparently, it rocked Gabe's world too. Which is a relief to tell the truth.

So, back to this morning, I let him talk a little more about his dear Mermaid's boo-boo, how much it must have hurt when the monster "bited" her, and how he was going to make it all better. And slowly I let go of my little grudge hangover -- and I remembered that although he is my firstborn, he is only 3!