From the moment we sat Lauren down at a special lunch at Red Robin and let her know she was going to be a big sister, she's been in love. At first, she was in love with the idea of being a big sister. We got her a "Big Sister Lauren" t-shirt that she wore with pride and she told everyone she was going to have a baby sibling soon. She was so happy and excited.
Of course, she thought she was going to have a baby sister and that's what she told everyone. We kept trying to soften the potential impact of the baby being a boy by adding, "or brother" every time she gleefully told someone, "I'm going to have a baby sister!" In April, an ultrasound confirmed without a doubt that we were, indeed, expecting a boy. Jeremy and I knew it wasn't going to go over well, so we held our breath as we sat Lauren down that night. We let her know that we saw the baby in a special picture and that it was a healthy baby brother. "No," she said, "it's a baby sister." She insisted for a couple of days that we were wrong, but she came around. She even came up with a name for the baby: Nut.
We have no idea where that "name" came from; we had simply asked her what she thought we should name the baby and that's what she said, instantly. No question. And she stuck with it, too, much to our chagrin. She told anyone that would ask that her brother's name was going to be "Nut!" Most people just sort of shrugged and smiled conspiratorially at us, but a few asked her if she meant "Nat." They evidently don't know four-year-olds that well.
I knew Lauren was excited to have a brother, but I have to admit I was even bowled over by the wave of love she seemed to feel for him instantly. When Grandpa (John) brought her to the hospital to see him, she was beside herself with excitement. She kept exclaiming how "cute" he was and just seemed entranced. We were off to a good start.
Ever since then, Lauren has been a model big sister and clearly just loves her brother to bits. She's constantly asking if he's awake and if he's happy and is constantly maneuvering to give him hugs and a "sweet kiss." She's almost a little too lovey with him; I'm worried that she's going to smother him with kisses one of these days or crush him with a hug. The poor babe got his first cold at two weeks from all the kisses Typhoid Mary was giving him. He's a trooper, though, and we just keep up a constant stream of, "Okay, Lauren, that's close enough. You don't have to make him grab your hand. Okay! Ten kisses is enough!"
She loves helping to take care of him and has been fantastic about helping. If you think about it, it's pretty amazing: she was the only child and the light of our lives and now she's sharing the spotlight without complaint. We probably did a little too much for her before he was born, but now she gets in and out of the car on her own, dresses herself, and feeds the dogs without help from us. She's becoming quite the big girl before our eyes and she's done it with grace and without jealousy.
The best part, of course, is seeing that bond between them as siblings. It seemed to be there pretty much from that moment at Red Robin and just gets stronger every day. He smiles and coos at her as she lovingly picks the sock lint from between his toes. He stops crying as she leans over him, screeching soothing things in an attempt to sound like Mom. She constantly tells us things to say to him ("Hi little man! Hi handsome man!") and asks us to make him talk to her. And today for the first time, she said, "Andrew, I love you!" totally on her own. It absolutely melted my heart.
They're 4.5 years apart, so I can't imagine it will always be this easy, but I do hope that they always love each other this much.
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