This is my Owen, eleven years ago.
I could have never predicted that my little baby boy would become the big brother to all of this:
I don't think that there could be a more perfect biggest brother for my children. Someone recently referred to Owen as "unflappable." I think that is the perfect way to describe him. At times, the house is filled with choas-everything from laughing to screaming to crying. There is rarely a dull moment around here, yet through it all, Owen remains at an even keel. He is always ready to help out and is always respectful and dependable.
He was there to greet baby Nash:
He was there to welcome baby Alayna:
He was there to snuggle baby Greyson:
And while a brother has their special bond with all of their siblings, there is one bond that is stronger than all of the rest: Owen and Emerson.
Owen and Emerson are sixteen months apart. They have been the best of friends since the very beginning.
For two years, they each had a built-in playmate and they didn't ever want to be apart.
They got along very well, almost always.
As more children were added into the mix, their bond only became stronger.
They were, and continue to be, a united front.
I wrote last year about how strange motherhood is. You can read about that here.
One of my most vivid memories of when Owen was a baby came the day after I was home from the hospital with him. I had been up for almost twenty-four hours straight. I had nursed him and changed him and burped him and rocked him and nursed him and nursed him and nursed him. He was fine, until I would put him in his bed. What was wrong with this kid?! There were so many rules about pregnancy and I had read so much about labor and delivery, but no one ever tells you what to do when you're officially on your own with a newborn. I remember calling my sister and asking her to come over. I'm pretty sure when she walked in the door, I mumbled something about me just having finished feeding him, shoved the crying baby into her arms, and collapsed into bed. When I awoke, it was silent. I came out of my bedroom to find that the baby was sound asleep in his bed. Surely, my sister was a magician. I asked her how she had accomplished this feat. Her response? "I just swaddled him tightly in his blanket and put him in bed," she said. Swaddled him tightly? WHY HAD NO ONE TOLD ME TO SWADDLE MY BABY?
As you can imagine, I learned a lot those first few months. And then I kept learning. I am still learning. Does it ever stop? I don't think so. No one ever becomes a mother and has all of the answers. Like they say, it really does take a village to raise a child. And me? I've got five children. Five very different children who have all taught me so much.
I imagine being a big brother-the biggest brother-is kind of like becoming a mother. Owen didn't know that when his sister was born that he became a big brother, yet he was. Instantly her realized that it was his job to look over her. And the same holds true for the other children, as well. They are all growing up, and he is the leader. They look to him for guidance and protection. They share secrets with him that they don't even share with mom and dad. There is an unspoken promise that he will be there for them. I cannot think of a better role model for my children than their biggest brother, Owen.
Happy eleventh birthday to the boy who made me a mother. I love you, O!
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