peas in a pod

Caleb and Porter

Caleb is my brown eyed boy, Porter is my blue eyed boy.
Caleb leads and Porter follows.
Porter eats the hot dog, Caleb eats the bun.
Caleb is easy going, Porter falls apart without advance notice.
Caleb loves blue, Porter loves brown.
Porter loves being on his own, Caleb needs people. Lots of people.
Caleb is daring, Porter couldn't be more cautious.
Porter eats anything but chocolate, Caleb won't eat a thing besides chocolate.

But

They both love legos.

They both love books.

They both love potty humor.

They both love baths.

They both superheros.

They both love mario brothers.

They both love to wrestle.

They love each other

 and they adore their baby brother.

When I watch the two of them together, I think Luke is a blessed boy to have these amazing brothers.

They will be his protectors.

His teachers.

His audience.

His example.

His entertainment.

The babies of the family always have it so good.

i did it my way

I had a baby in June. Right in the throws of summer, when children are home, and the sun beats too intensely to spend all day outside.

When I brought my little baby home to meet his three brothers and his one and only sister, they were instantly intensely in love. Everyone was constantly wondering where he was, what he was doing, wondering what he was thinking, commenting on his every feature down to his teeny tiny fingernails.

And they all wanted to hold him.

ALL THE TIME.

We had to set a timer so everyone got to hold the little one the exact same amount of time. Because if you grew up with siblings you know everything has to be fair and everything has to be measured or the crap hits the fan. Truth.

The baby fascination didn't let up all summer. Then fall came and swept three children off to school.

Suddenly all those hands were gone.

And that sweet little baby didn't know what to do with himself.

We and our family full of eager arms had created a monster.

School has been in session for 6 months now. And I still spend the my time holding the monster or putting him down and listening to him cry. Trying not to trip over him as he crawls after me, muttering, "mamamamamama..."

Finally after some dishes are loaded, a meal is made, a mess picked up, I give in. I pick that giant monster up  and hold him. And he calms, he sighs, and he smiles. He knows he got his way.
I smile. I know he got his way today, but I also know something else. I know that many, many days after tomorrow, when that giant monster baby grows into a young boy, he won't be crying after me. He won't mutter mamamama. He won't want to cuddle his mom. But I will have the memories of his tiny baby hands frozen with sleep

 and the feel of his chubby arms wrapped around my neck burned into my heart.  And I will know then that I got my way too.

a moment

Saturday morning came and found me without a husband and two of my children for a few hours (Caleb and Hailey). Porter was sick and in need of all of me. (you know those mornings) as I busied myself tending to him and his every need, Jonas took control of the baby. (I love having a helper!)
By the time I settled Porter enough to sit down and cuddle him, Jonas had gotten Luke to fall fast asleep on his chest. Soon, porter was fast asleep against me.
The house was quiet.
Morning light was pouring in from the library window.
Snow was gently falling outside.
I watched Jonas (but only in the stealthy sort of way. teenagers don't like to be stared at. that's in parenting 101)
Jonas was absent mindedly rubbing the back of his baby brother. Jonas' legs were hanging off the couch due to the ever increasing length of him.
And just like that, I was comforted.
Parenting is hard. (shocking truth.)
Parenting little ones is no where near as hard as parenting giant tweenagers.
The worry and the fear of are you doing it right, saying it right, loving them right is so much more intense; it is all consuming sometimes.
But on that snowy Saturday morning, watching Jonas cuddle his sweet baby brother, I felt peace. Peace that everything is going to be okay all the time? Nope. Peace that he is the perfect child and won't make mistakes? Big no. Peace that I am the all knowing mother who will always know the perfect thing to say or do in any given situation? Biggest no.
Instead, I felt peace in the comforting thought that there is love in this house. There is love in this family and that the love Brian and I have for each other and for our kids will heal a lot of the broken heart moments we are wading through now, and the ones we will wade through in the future.
The mistakes, the failures, the hurt.
Peace that if we continue with love, that we can overcome all of the junk with time.
It was such a gift of a moment.
I would have taken a picture if it wouldn't have been against Jonas' life rules to have photos taken of him. Dang that kid.