Lately, oh sweet lately, this amazing thing has happened with my children.
They play together… for hours.
Sure, they’ve played together before. They play the cherished game of Who Had it First, and let’s not forget their personal favorite, Stop Copying Me! And that usually ends in screams and tears, and OH MY GOSH, IS THERE BLOOD? IS ANYONE’S BRAINS LEAKING OUT ON MY CARPET, THEY BETTER NOT BE BECAUSE I JUST HAD THEM CLEANED!? No, no blood, all brain fluids are intact, but I had it first, mommy!
But now, there’s been a sea change, a click, a small motion towards friendliness, a gesture in kindness, and a realization that the other one isn’t the enemy. They truly are each other’s best friend.
I was always worried that having three years in between them would be doing them a disservice. That they would grow apart, not together, but they don’t really have the option, and they don’t know any different. And when this baby comes, it will be nearly three years younger than Hudson, and close to six years younger than Berlyn, but I know that somehow they will all still chase bubbles, play in cardboard boxes, sing and dance, and fiercely love each other, because they don’t really have the option.
Because siblings are forever.
Hudson’s bright eyes dazzle when we pick up Berlyn from school.
And Berlyn can’t contain herself when she hears that Hudson is awake from his nap.
Now, I know this isn’t permanent. I know that I’ll turn around and in an instant, Hudson will be biting the fleshy part of Berlyn’s arm, or Berlyn will be trying to feed Hudson dog food. But for now things are civil, and I’d like to stay in this perfect land of daffodils and rainbow icing. Because it feels right.
In our home saying, “I love you” isn’t an option. Neither is saying, “I’m sorry,” and “I forgive you.”
We practice selflessness, and respect, and being grateful.
And somehow, by the grace of God, it’s all working.