brotherhood

I knew he’d be a great big brother from the moment I looked my very clingy 20-month-old in the eyes and said, “Mommy has to go to the hospital now so your baby sister can be born. Be a big boy and stay here with Grammy. You can come see me soon, okay?” Instead of tears and a death-grip around my neck, as was expected, he toddled over to Grandma’s waiting lap, waved good-bye, and somehow his young self knew he was stepping into, stepping UP to, a new role: Big Brother.

He has always been watchful of Sister; always aware of her needs and ready with a binky or a toy or a fun game to make her smile. When he was almost 3 (or maybe newly 3; I forget), I was loading the kids into the car after a trip to the library. As Dallin climbed into his carseat he noticed a wayward fruit snack, fallen from the bag he’d eaten earlier on our drive. This coveted treat was a surprise and the look in his eyes told me of his glee at this fortunate discovery. Instead of instantly popping it into his mouth he started twisting and pulling it with his little fingers. He was breaking it in half so Kate could have some, too.

Today was the last day of Kindergarten. As he packed his bag for school he carefully counted up his ‘blue tickets’: earned for good behavior and, today, to be used to ‘buy’ treats and toys from his teacher. When he came home bearing two new hair clips for Kate, I wasn’t surprised. His teacher told me he had carefully picked out something for her before he chose the treats and prizes for himself.

Dallin is the kind of big brother I always wanted; he’s the kind of older sibling I should have been (sorry K, P and J). He got this generous and loving gene from his dad, and I’m trying, every day, to be more like my boy.