My Brother

Since today is my little brother's birthday, I think I will pay homage to him here on my blog. I was an only child for the first 8 years of my life. And I have to say, I was pretty happy with that. I wasn't one of those kids that was constantly asking for a little brother or sister. Mostly because I grew up with other kids around to play with and partly because I liked my things exactly how I left them. I didn't want some little person coming along and messing things up.

So imagine my utter shock when I was looking through my mom's car and found a bag with a little blue stork on it and some cheesy saying about "expecting" or "new baby." I can't remember the specifics right now. So I picked up the offensive item and marched myself into the house and into my mom's room where I demanded to know if she was having a baby. I can remember her giving me this look and a little smile and then she said, "Yes, your going to be a big sister." I didn't really say anything, kind of a mumbled "ok" and then I went back to my room. For the next few months I grew more and more excited. Just think of all the fun things you get to do. You can feed the baby, dress the baby, and carry the baby around. Basically I planned to make this baby my bitch. :) But in a good way, I promise!

Then came THE day. It was early afternoon and I was outside playing when my mom said it was time to go. We went to the hospital and I hung around in the waiting room with my grandparents. After what felt like an eternity I was allowed to go to my mom's room and there he was. In all his new baby glory. My brother. And in that moment I knew that no matter what, I would always love and protect him. After a few days in the hospital (my mom had her tubes tied, ha, I think she wanted to make sure there were no more surprises!) my mom came home and so did Ryan.

I remember learning how to hold him, how to feed, how to burp him, and how to change diapers. I could tell what his different cries meant and respond to them faster than my granny (who stayed with us a while after he was born to help out). I learned to boil bottles, measure formula. I also learned not to leave plastic things near really hot burners and NEVER lick your finger after you make a bottle, that stuff tastes like shiz! And as he grew, my love for him grew. I watched him learn to walk, learn to talk. I was his "jenniper", and sometimes no one else would do. I also endured hour after hour of Toy Story, I think he actually managed to watch that so much he broke the tape. (I know VHS, I can't believe it either!) And when he started school, I was there to make sure that no one picked on him and that he always had his lunch money. I made sure he got on the bus and I watched him when he got home in the evenings.

And when I got married he cried harder than anyone else. And when I saw him crying I dissolved into a puddle of mush. There was my 6'1" "little" brother crying in front of our family and friends. Our ties are strong, although they have been tested. We live next door to my family so he is up here all. the. time. Which is usually cool, but some times you need alone time for, ahem, marital relations. And it still kind of skeeves me out to do it while he is in my house. But today, as I look back over our life together I think I lucked out. I know siblings who are much closer in age and they hate each other. I feel extremely proud and protective over him, even though he outgrew me years ago.

So, today little brother I say, I love you and I always will. Happy Birthday.

PS- you still owe me a dog wash! :)