Dear Noah and Benjamin. Sometimes I am so busy being your mother (and nurturing my individual relationships with you -) that I forget about the bond that has fastened between the two of you. The age gap between the two of you is twenty months or so. Although, Noah was born in 2009 and Benjamin in 2010 which means that you will be a year apart at school. Noah class two - Benjamin class one, etc. Isn't that just so special?
Bunny, you could not have hoped for a nicer little boy to look up to and share your days with. I'm biting back the tears right now, but sincerely. He helped change your nappies as a newborn. Picked up your bottle when you dropped it. When I breastfed you, he say quietly and watched. When you cried, he called me. He fed you your first solids. Encouraged you when you started walking. Pulled you up (however clumsily) when you missed a step. When you were in my belly, he felt your kicks. He has always been there. The tears ran down my face when he met you in hospital. So gentle. Gushing. Proud.
Ben, you have *whooshed* through so many milestones just watching your big brother. You started talking and singing at an age that could label you a child genius, I'm sure. You're stringing sentences at 18 months. Yesterday you said "Open the door mommy". When I ask you something - It's out of habit, almost talking to myself. I don't expect answers, but I'm getting them. When you cry I ask "Where is the ouchie" and now you say "Here it is" then "It broken" which still dumbfounds me. I feel like those characters in movies where an animal is talking and they're all "YOU can TALK?!!". It's that wonderful.
Benjamin, you have followed in all your brother's amazing footsteps. You eat at the table with him, you have pretty much eaten on your own / with a spoon since you started on solids. You drink from a cup, you follow Noah to the kitchen and put / throw your plastic bowl in the sink after meals. You reach on to the counter and wipe spills with a cloth. You get in and out of the bath by yourself, dry yourself (kinda) and you're potty training already. You've been in a big-boy (single) bed for months and you are just... Mind boggling. I know it's Noah's good influence on you. You follow him everywhere. You stare at him, smile at him, laugh at him.
Sure there are times when you snatch toys from each other's hands and bite / pinch / pull hair / steal food but man. The good times between you make nothing else matter.
Noah you have decided which bike is yours and heaven help little Benjamin should he be on yours. Also, don't think that I haven't seen you take all the 'unwanted' items out of your food bowl and stash them in to his. When threatening Benjamin with a "Ben, do you want a time-out", you're sure to hear Noah's sober voice in the background "I think so mommy." Also, a poor bunny cannot do *everything* that you can Noah. Please don't invite him to jump off the coffee table with you. It won't end well, I promise.
At bath time, Noah likes to wash your hair. At bed time, he likes to read you stories. Well, in his own way. Once you've watched your cartoons at bed time, you get up and put Baby Einstein in for your brother. "Here Ben" you say and he clutches his teddy a bit tighter with happiness.
You guys are so beautiful together (well about seventy percent of the time) and I really hope that it sticks. I hope that you grow up together and never grow apart. Here are some pictures just from this weekend. To treasure.
"My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, "You're tearing up the grass." "We're not raising grass," Dad would reply. "We're raising boys." ~Harmon Killebrew
"Being pretty on the inside means you don't hit your brother and you eat all your peas - that's what my grandma taught me." ~Lord Chesterfield
"My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, "You're tearing up the grass." "We're not raising grass," Dad would reply. "We're raising boys." ~Harmon Killebrew
"Being pretty on the inside means you don't hit your brother and you eat all your peas - that's what my grandma taught me." ~Lord Chesterfield
