Monday, June 22, 2009
My Evil Plan Worked
"So, he was a surprise, right?"
"Nope, totally planned and thought out. We wanted them close together."
"How close will they be?"
"17 and 1/2 months."
I was giddy. My sister and I had been 21 months apart, and I loved it. I was the younger and was sure there was really no difference in our ages. I think sometimes my sister wished there was a bit more space, but I couldn't wait to catch up! Her friends were my friends. Her toys mine. My passions, she enjoyed. My imagination, she complimented. We were on the same page. Developmentally we tracked. We were constant companions.
My parents met later in life and so started their family later than most. Our cousins were getting married when we were learning to walk, or so it seemed. Family gatherings weren't about little kids, so we made our own fun. If an invite for dinner got boring, we escaped with each other, amigos in crime.
Even in high school, we enjoyed each other. On a retreat we chose to go on a long bike ride with each other instead of with our friends who were back at the rented house.
We still love and rely on each other.
This is what I had in mind when I got pregnant when my oldest wasn't even walking yet. I was still nursing; he was still a baby. It sometimes makes me sad that our one-on-one time was cut short. He was such a cute little boy. There are pictures of his first birthday, and there is the bulge of his little brother, hanging out in my belly.
I had no way to prepare him. He went from being the center of our world to having to share everything once number two arrived. He didn't even notice the large belly that made it tricky to cuddle on my lap. He was too young. One day I left and the next, came home from the hospital with a screaming bundle of joy. I admit, I missed him a ton and even cried over it no longer being me and my little man. I was also learning to share.
It was pretty intense. I always encourage mothers who have chosen to space their kids so close together, that it all pays off in the end. I say, "Nine months, that is the month when the clouds will lift. You'll come around the corner, and there they will be, playing. Well, at least the older one will be sitting and interacting and the younger will be beaming and laughing."
It just gets better from that point on. They are totally best friends and buds! If one wakes up before the other, the awake one wakes the sleeping one. Off they race to play cars, airplanes, transformers, Legos, play dough, ice cave......
Right now they are upstairs jumping off their beds and the train table. Television is always the last choice for entertainment. They have each other.
They do enjoy a little U-tube. They are in to the Chipmunks, Chip and Dale. I hear them play the parts. They have squeaky voices. The youngest is always Chip. The older, Dale. They are always on adventures with an imaginary Donald Duck.
It reminds me of us, my sister and me. We always played runaways. She was 12 and I was 11, actually we were both much younger, but in our minds 12 and 11 were the coolest ages ever. We always ran away from some evil, old lady who was trying to keep us prisoners in the truck cab. Very exciting and very real.
We take great comfort in each other. We are the only ones in the world who share the same childhood, same memories, the only ones who know our parents, really know them. We often process through our childhood experiences and impressions together. When our parents are gone, we will have each other, and some how that will keep the past alive and real, tangible.
I love my sister. My boys love each other. This was all part of my evil plan, and it is working!