The oldest is four, and he is definitely becoming his own person. He has a little bit of an attitude going, but I would imagine every four year old does. No matter how he may feel about my wife, my son, or myself, that kid is the best big brother I think I have ever seen. When his little brother starts crying for any reason (and the little one will cry for any reason), the first person there to comfort him is his big brother.
It has been a long time since I was a four year old big brother to a younger brother, and time and a fading memory allow me to forget the ways in which my brother and I interacted with each other. But when I watch the four year old try to help his two year old brother put on his winter jacket to go outside, I suddenly hope that my brother and I got along only a fraction as well as these two do.
When the youngest wants a toy the oldest is playing with, the oldest will simply hand his brother the toy and immediately stop the lectures we were giving the youngest about sharing. In the mornings, I can hear the two of them talking to each other as I come downstairs. I don't think they know what each other is saying, but I am pretty sure it doesn't matter.
The youngest still has the high pitched baby voice, but he is learning words very quickly. His newest thing is to make the fake sleeping sound when he is ready to go to bed, and I have to admit that it doesn't get much cuter than that.
Yeah, the wife and I would like peace and quiet once in a while and a chance to sit down for more than 30 seconds. But when the day comes to an end and those two little faces say they love you and give us kisses good night, it is really easy to forget just how draining it can be to raise little ones.
Is it worth it? We wouldn't change it for the world.
George N Root III is a Lockport resident and proud grandfather. Follow him on Twitter @georgenroot3, or send him a message at firstname.lastname@example.org. Good night Abel. Good Night Dean. Bapa loves you.