The other day, the four of us arrived home. Allison was sleeping in her carseat and Andrew went immediately to start playing with some toys. A and I went upstairs to put things away. Now let me be clear, I trust Andrew to be alone with his sister. No I would never leave him alone with her for an extended period of time (say, more than 5 minutes) but with her sleeping and him playing I wasn’t concerned. Next thing we know Allison is shrieking in pain. I’m sure our feet didn’t touch the stairs as we raced as quickly as possible to see what on earth had happened to our baby girl.

A rushed to unstrap her as I made it down the stairs a few steps behind him. There were no visible signs of injury, no blood, no marks, just a screaming infant and a crumpled heap of Andrew, sobbing on the floor. This is where confusion clouded my mind. What could he have done to her? The thought was so shocking I couldn’t stand it. I had to get to the bottom of it right away.

“What happened, Andrew?”

“I (sob) threw (sob) a toy (sob) at (sob) her.”

I paused to gather my thoughts. I could barely believe what I was hearing. My loving son who has never willfully hurt anyone in his life had throw a toy at his sister.

“Where did it hit her?” I asked.

“The face.”

Again I paused. “Was it an accident?”

(Please let him say yes, please let him say yes.)

“No”

“Did you mean to throw it at her?”

“Yes”

Now my mind races in the other direction. How do I punish him for this? Take away his Cars, or maybe his LeapPad. Is a time out enough? How will I express to him that he can’t hurt people, especially small helpless babies. I felt like crying myself. I just felt so confused. Why?

“Why Andrew?”

“I (sob) thought (sob) she (sob) would (sob) catch (sob) it… I’m so sorry.” (hysterics ensue)

Oh. I understand. He wanted to play catch with her. He didn’t realize she wouldn’t know to hold her hands up to catch the toy or ya, know, block her face. I forget sometimes that he’s only three.

By this point, Allison was completely calm and giggling again. Andrew, still teary, got up and told her he was sorry and kissed her on the arms and legs. She playfully pulled his hair. And after a chaotic 3 minutes, all was right with the world once again.

I guess this might seem like a strange story to explain the love between brother and sister but every time I think about it I feel a sense of gratitude for what they have in each other. His response to knowing he hurt her was utter devastation. His apology was both unprovoked and sincere. And her smiles and quick forgiveness helped him know that his sweet baby sister still very much loves him.

Every now and then I hear people talk about how they want another girl so their daughter can have a sister or another boy so their son can have a brother. But let me show you the love that exists between a brother and a sister, a brother who will always protect her and a sister who will always think he is the best big brother in the world.

A lot of people really hate valentines day, I am not a fan of it myself. But if we are going to celebrate anything let’s celebrate real love. Not what you find in a box of candies or a bouquet of roses but the love you find in those who know you best and who would do anything in the world for you: the love of family.

We learned the hard way that Andrew (kids in general) need a lot of prep when a parent is traveling. About a year ago, we had a string of a few months where our good sleeper started waking multiple times a night and was constantly on edge and cranky during the day. It seemed obvious after we discovered the problem- he was afraid he wouldn’t get to tell Daddy good-bye. I understood that completely. There were dozens of times where business trips came at an hour’s notice and A would leave before Andrew and I got home. The solution, we discovered, was to start talking to Andrew as soon as we knew what was coming. I admit, not being the usual traveler, this prep was hard for me because I was anxious about going and I didn’t want to talk about it, especially not with Andrew. But I did.

He took it well enough. He’s a seasoned child-of-a-not-really-single-but-single-parent. We talked about where I was going and looked at our giant world map. We talked about how he would get to school and who would pick him up. We prepped his things for school and I assured him he would still go to Gymnastics. We practiced using FaceTime. We talked and talked and talked about Italy and what I was going to do there and why it was important. And when the time came he helped me pack my suitcase and he missed school the day I left so he could come with me to the airport. He seemed ready. More ready than me anyway.

You see all this came with one promise:

Behave well, help Daddy and listen to your teachers. If you do those things I’ll bring you home something really cool.

Well knowing that I have a great kid who would undoubtedly behave as requested, I spent most of my free time shopping for stuff for him. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to bring Italy home to him and not just in the form of a little plastic (American, Disney) racecar. No I wanted him to understand who the Pope is, and see pictures of the Saints for whom he is named. I wanted him to see what the Sistine chapel looks like and understand the gladiator battles held in the Coliseum. So I did my best to bring Italy home to him.

It seems I did not disappoint!

When all is said and done I’m pretty sure I had more fun shopping for him that he is having exploring these new and novel things which is really saying something! And though deep down I know he wanted me to come home, even asking A at one point if they could just go to Italy and get me, it certainly didn’t hurt to have a bag of cool stuff for him when I got here. For now it’s plastic gladiators and books of pictures but also promises that one day, hopefully not too far away, I’ll bring him there to experience it all for himself.

I look at this picture and admittedly the quality is pretty poor. But I think about this picture from everything else but a photographic stand point and it’s one of my favorites. There I was, in one of the most beautiful, spiritual, and ancient cities in the world and it was incredible. I mean honestly people keep asking me how it was and I find myself running out of superlatives to describe it. Yet there was one highlight to every day I was there and that was my few minutes of FaceTime with my family back home. Steve Jobs, thank you endlessly for the iPad! Where was it when I had a frequently TDY/Deployed husband?! Ha!

Our routine went something like this:

I waited until 9pm Rome time, which was around 3pm Eastern. I knew Andrew would be home from school by then. I would feel my heart leap the moment I saw their faces on the screen and more than once I got teary-eyed. Then came predictable question number one- “Did you find Francesco for me?” Moms of boys probably know that Francesco is the Italian race car from the movie Cars 2. Once Daddy told him that I was going to the place where Francesco lived, it became my sole mission to find him and not let down my favorite little boy in the world. (I did end up finding a little Francesco car, packaged with Lightning McQueen and priced about 18 times what I would have paid for it had I simply picked one up at Target.) Predictable question number two- “Where’s Italy?” I’m still not sure he fully understands the concept of my traveling. He was convinced Italy was a thing to be seen, not a place to visit. I held up my iPad each night to let him look out the windows of the hotel but for all he was able to see I may as well have been sitting across the street from our house.

Then he told me about school, assured me he was feeding the cats every morning, making Allison laugh, and being Daddy’s “Super Helper”. The hardest part each night was saying good-bye. Again.

But despite the good-byes, the crowded and noisy lobby and flaky internet, every night I got to experience my little piece of home close to 5000 miles away. I guess you could say this week’s photo is about life through my eyes. Thank you, iPad for being my little window to the part of the world that means the most to me.

Well I intended this picture to be about Allison and to document her first taste of solid foods. In a way it does accomplish that. Unlike Andrew on his first solid food adventure, she did not cry or act surprised or worried. Instead she just accepted the sweet potatoes as though she’d been waiting for them her whole life. Considering how she usually responds to things like vitamins and medicine, I was pretty surprised that she actually liked them! Phew, dare I hope for the possibility that I have two good eaters? It’s probably too early to say (and I probably just jinxed myself).

But when I look at this picture I see Andrew right in the middle of the experience. He has embraced being a big brother like it is the most important job title in the world. The other day he was getting dressed for school and he looked up at me and said, “Mommy?” “Yes,” I answered. “I love Allison.” <cue melting heart> I look at the way she responds to him and know the feeling is undoubtedly mutual.

I think every pregnant woman experiences a moment of “Will I love my child enough?” and then if they become pregnant again with a second child the question becomes “Will I be able to love this new child as much as I love my first?” And even though probably every mom experiences these questions they discover quickly that the answer is unequivocally “YES!” But the wonderful secret that parents discover after that second child is born, is that watching your first become a big brother or sister will make you love them even more deeply. I watch how engaged he is with every aspect of her life, how much he wants to be a part of her new experiences, and how proud he is of her when she does something that she has never done before.  I am touched by the grace and beauty of the simple moments where I am allowed to glimpse a bit of life through their eyes and feel the pure and unencumbered love they feel in their hearts.

If you would like to be a part of my circle, let me know and I’ll add your link.

WickedKate | Robo-Family | What We’re Sayin… | Finding Joy

Remember the feeling of your first time riding a real bike? The way the breeze gently lifted your hair and cooled your face; the thrilling sensation of soaring faster than you had ever moved by the power of your own body. Learning how to ride a bike is a good metaphor for life even if it is a bit cliched. Your parents are the training wheels. They help you get started and keep you from falling while you learn but after a while it’s your turn to try on your own. Oh yes, you might fall but if you don’t get back on and try again you might never realize how fast you can fly.

Andrew asked Santa for exactly two things: a shark bike and a marble race. He got both. Both gifts have exceeded his expectations. While our riding today he saw a neighbor he didn’t know– a scary stranger! He took off running, leaving his precious bike behind until the person went in to their house. Then he was “safe” to ride again!

Want to join my circle? Let me know and I’ll link to you here!

WickedKate | Robo-Family

Look at that! two weeks in a row and you have a blog update post from me, plus a new picture which, I hope my husband doesn’t mind that he is a part of this one. I couldn’t help but grab my camera yesterday morning when I walked in the bedroom to find Allison sound asleep on Daddy’s chest. Someday soon enough she’ll understand the turmoil in the world around her but right now all she needs to know is one thing– she’s safe in Daddy’s arms.

Next week I am aiming to get a picture of both of them or at least of Andrew. I didn’t mean for the first two to be of Allison. See, mommy guilt at it’s finest!

See you next week (or later this week if my child ever decides to nap again!)

Want to join my circle? Let me know and I’ll link to you here!

WickedKate

I so wanted to do this last year when I first found out about it but last year I was newly pregnant and very sick, dealing with a partly potty trained toddler, working full time and surviving with a husband who was traveling more often than not. I vowed to take part in 2012 and was so excited to get started that I’ll admit I took this one a few days prior to the start of the new year.

While my inspirational site Paint the Moon uses weekly themes, I wanted to explore life through the eyes of my kids. I was not the first of my friends to have kids so I got the benefit of learning and preparing myself mentally before they came along. There was a time when I wasn’t sure I was ready. My best friend told me that having kids makes life better because you get to experience everything all over again seeing it through their eyes. That really stuck with me. So here we begin, the first of 52 pictures (hopefully!) Allison stars in the first image. Once upon a time we welcomed the new year drinking champagne but now our bubbles come from bath time. I am reminded of the simple pleasures of life when I watch her face as she enters a warm bath. In the little sink tub, under the watchful care of Mommy or Daddy, life is good.