It’s Still Cool to Love

It’s Thursday, so I’ve had love on the brain. (Love Thursday being the reason, of course.) I had all intention of writing about a new book we got just recently but… my children, they give me content. For free. They’re good little content producers.

We had to bring home BigBrother’s girlfriend, A1, from preschool today. Her Mom had an appointment so we brought her home with us. (Through this experience we also learned that two booster seats of different brands and one Britax roundabout fit in the back seat of our GMC Sonoma. Win!) We stopped at the Fire Department so BigBrother could tell FireDad about his day. As I was saying my goodbyes, I hear BigBrother whisper across the row of car seats, “A1, I love you so much, too.”


Later, as they had snack together in the kitchen, I heard, “A1, I love you,” followed by, “BB, I love you, too.”

More melting.

Now, in the living room, they’re sitting with barely any space between the two of them, holding hands, watching a Wubbzy DVD (to be reviewed soon) still whispering things about love. Just last week, after I informed him that he couldn’t, in fact, marry me since Daddy is already married to me, he told me that he was going to marry A1. And they were going to name their children the names of LittleBrother and A1. In all likelihood, they’ll probably just end up friends. (But there is this part of me that thinks, “Oh, wouldn’t it be nice to like my son’s in laws?” Because, yes, that would be nice.)

What warms my heart is that my oldest son hasn’t lost the desire to express love. He hasn’t been told to be a brute. He doesn’t have to push her down to let her know that he likes her, ala  the movie “He Just Not That Into You.” He may play basketball but he tells me that he loves me as he leaves the court, complete with a kiss. Even though mean and nasty anonymous commenters think that they know better, I think we’re doing just fine. If you want to raise the child that beats mine up, well, that’s your prerogative. We’ll stick with the concept of love, thank you very much.

That is, until LittleBrother makes a move on A1. He just brough his favorite yellow fire boot to her, said “silly!” and batted his little eyelashes. And then, just now, I asked him to give me a kiss, and he ran over to give A1 a kiss. Oh dear. I’m in trouble. Or, LittleBrother is in trouble. Or, maybe, BigBrother is in trouble. Or, perhaps, we’re all in trouble.


Love Thursday: Being the Probie

I had just happened to put LittleBrother in his “Probie” shirt the other day. For you non-firefighters who are currently smirking, a probie is a probational firefighter. The “new kid” on the block. The one that you make do all the chores. You know, that one. BigBrother got this shirt for his first birthday. I had forgotten about it until just recently so we’re trying to get some good wear time out of it for LittleBrother before he has another growth spurt.

And so the story of my melting heart goes like this…

BigBrother went back to his room, got into his imagination clothes bin and came out with (one of) his fire helmet(s) on. He was stomping around and putting out fires. I then saw LittleBrother toddle back the hall. A few seconds later, he came toddling back down the hall with another fire helmet in hand. He brought it to me so I could put it on his head. And then he went off to stomp with his brother.

And I snapped this picture.

Forget the fact the the living room is covered with toys. Forget the fact that the picture is not technically amazing. Forget all of that. Look at the joy on LittleBrother’s face. Do you see it? Do you feel it? Because I see it and I feel it every time the two of them do something together. Together together and not just playing with separate toys side by side. While the latter is cute enough, to see them actually interested in doing things together melts me into a puddle of mommy goo.

For the most part, they get along quite well. There are issues when it comes to sharing Very Important Toys but we deal with those as they come. The story wasn’t the same for me. My brother was eight years younger and, as such, wasn’t the best playmate. Sure, he wanted to be just like me. But he did things that drove me insane like the time he painted my brand new bedspread with my oil paints. And while I do predict that these two will ruin things for one another, pictures like these fill me with such love. I know that they don’t realize how lucky they are right now. And when they’re teens, they probably won’t either. But my hope is that someday they can look back at a picture like this and smile.

[For more Love Thursday, visit Chookooloonks.]