The Gift

Too many times I find myself telling the boys, usually after some kind of disturbance from their younger sibling, "You're lucky to have a little sister that looks up to you."

They roll their eyes, look at me like I'm nuts and continue on with the art of avoiding doing anything that could even remotely be considered girly.

We go through this scenario at least 2 times a week.

"When you were her age, you didn't have cool older brothers to look up to," I plead with them.

"You are her heroes," I say.

Even though their expressions give me the feeling that my words are falling on deaf ears, I know that deep down inside, somewhere, they really do love their sister (especially when I catch them being so good to her). I remind them that I understand what being the oldest is like since I was one myself - and I consider each of them the same in this respect, as their age difference is so very tiny compared to the 5 year gap between them and their sister.

When I stop and appreciate the moments when they really are all getting along and marching to the beat of a drum that the rest of the world cannot hear, I am so very, very grateful. I'm grateful for these kids, these children, these treasures that the universe trusted me with for not enough time. I know that in 3 years one will be gone, on an adventure of his own. The family dynamic will change again, just as it did the day we brought that screaming little pink alien home from the hospital. But no matter how many times life changes, they will always have one another.

Of course, I had to stop writing this mushy meandering mama love for a few minutes to run interference between a 14-year-old who wouldn't get out of his sister's room. OF COURSE.

My point is, I'm in awe of their love for each other, when they chose to show it. No matter how you slice it, they are stuck together, forever and for always. Despite the bickering, the arguing over whose turn it is to unload the dishwasher or who scooped the kitty litter last, they are stuck like glue.

Their bond is a gift, and I'm (we are) just an observant outsider. I hope the laughter never ends.