Big Brother
The twisted and tangled branches of my family tree and that of my wife mirror each other in many ways. For example, we both have a sister named Deb and a brother Jim. Both trees sport marriages and remarriages, blurring the line between sister and half-sister, brother and half-brother until the difference isn’t always apparent and never important. One of the more interesting coincidences is that we are both the youngest sibling of our family by far.
When I say by far, I mean it. My closest sibling is seven years older than me (hey Deb). My wife’s closest sibling is eleven years older than her (hey Jim). From the perspective of human dynamics (and, incidentally, the wife and I met in Human Dynamics class), we are considered only-children. That is, during playtime, we played pretty much all by ourselves.
At the same time, our brothers and sisters were born much closer together. They grew up together. They went to the same schools. They used the same sliding boards and fought over the same box of Cheerios.
Now I don’t want anyone to get the impression that either my wife or I aren’t close to our siblings. In fact, I believe my wife and I are probably closer to our siblings than they are to each other. It’s just that our childhood disagreements were less likely to be about playground equiment and cereal than, say, who stole a peek at their brother’s Playboys.
Before anyone starts to feel sorry for me, I turned out just fine. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want a brother or sister with a birthday a little closer to mine. I might have been willing to relinquish the role as the youngest for a little brother or sister. It always sounded like a good idea to have a younger one around to teach and protect (much like my sister did with me), rib and amuse (much like my brothers did to me).
Now that the chances of getting a younger brother or sister are pretty slim (what do you say, mom?), all of this takes a different perspective. It’s no longer me waiting for a play buddy. It’s my son. He’s the one waiting and he doesn’t even know it.
Well, he won’t have to wait long.
A second little Wootton is about six months or so from completion. A new little son or daughter awaits the wife and I. A new little child awaits his or her first meet and greet with their big brother.
To say we are looking forward to number two is an understatement. We have our trepidations. We worry about diaper duty times 2, we worry about finances, and we worry a lot about Cambell having competition for attention. But mostly, were pretty excited that the family is expanding.
See, I don’t look at it as sharing the spotlight, although Cam is sure to think that at some point or another. That sounds like something is being taken away. I look at it as a present. He gets a friend for life — a friend with a bond that only comes with family. We, on the other hand, get another shining light and toothy smile in our lives. I hope we keep plenty of Cheerios handy.
Tina
May 17th, 2004 at 11:26 pm #
Congratulations! We’re enjoying the two of ours being so close. The days where they’re both crying uncontrollably (toddler tantrums set off baby wails) aren’t so good. The days where toddler peekaboo delights the infant in the high chair are delightful. Little sis thinks big sis is the coolest thing, big sis loves to entertain her little sis, and mom and dad just coo over how great having these two little girls is.
Laura
May 18th, 2004 at 10:14 am #
Congratulations!!! We’re so happy for you two!