Will cooed “I love you” to Owen from morning to evening today – and planted lots of kisses on him too. This after a several-day stretch in which Will was often patting Owen with excessive vigor and doing excited punching dances as he stood near him – none of which was malicious, just reckless and slightly nerve-wracking to watch as a paranoid mother. I was wondering if it was a precursor for worse big brother behavior to come. And I think Will was wondering too.
Unsolicited, he offered a version of this vow both after breakfast and before bed today: “I love Owen. I’m not going to do anything that’s not nice. I’m not going to ever hit or kick. I’m only going to do nice things.”
It’s as if he’s been mulling the possibility of throwing a kick or a hit Owen’s way, but he’s found just enough restraint within that impulsive toddler body to avoid intentionally striking out at the little guy who has in many ways disrupted Will’s life but who has also brought his big brother a lot of happiness and a newfound sense of responsibility and competence.
It’s nice not to be the small man in the house anymore.
And Will feels bigger to both of us. I’ll comment sometimes on how heavy he seems after not having picked him up for a couple weeks both before and after Owen’s birth.
A couple days ago, as I hefted him into his seat for breakfast he asked me: “You know why cause I got so heavy?”
“Why did you get so heavy?”
“Cause I’m a big brother.”
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