There have been times where these two do not get along at all. Not even a little. I'll go to bed thinking about how my day consisted of breaking up legitimate fist fights, pulling one crying punching boy off the top of another crying scratching boy, yelling for one to head straight for time out and demanding the other to march his little toosh off to his room. They cool down, they say apologies, they give hugs and they make up...only to find the same thing happening two minutes later. It makes me tried. And sometimes grumpy. And sometimes really grumpy.
But, thankfully, there are moments throughout the week that over shadow these moments. There are incidences when I know these two brothers love each other. That they are thrilled they are brothers. That they know they knew each other before they came to this Earth and bonded a long long time ago. Moments where I can feel Dax's sense of protection for his younger brother and moments that make me so proud beyond words to be their mom. I am so blessed.
Well, today we had one of those moments.
Dax had been gone at preschool. I was working. Wyatt was happily watching a surfing Backyardigans (note to self---do not erase from DVR). Dax gets home from preschool about a half hour before I am through with work. They play for a bit and then when I am done with work I make them lunch. Not more than 3 minutes after Dax was home from school Wyatt was crying. I was instantly a little frustrated. I'm at the end of my day, Wyatt had been pleased as pie all morning and they had been in the same room for less that 5 seconds and Wyatt is already crying. It doesn't make sense to me, but that is what happened.
Because I wasn't in where they were playing, I didn't see what had happened. Knowing exactly what kind of story I was going to get from Wyatt ("I beeeding" (I'm bleeding) is always his answer to my "What happened?" even if he isn't really bleeding and always followed by a fake-dramatic-I-want-to-see-my-brother-get-in-trouble kind of cry). I call them both into my office (oh wait...my bedroom where I work from). However, this time, Wyatt is really bleeding. Not the freak out kind of bleeding like 5 months ago. No, like he barely must have bit his lip and I can see a granule of blood on it kind of bleeding. After a few "he pushed me" and a few "I fall down's" and other rigmarole (I don't still don't even know what happened) Dax decides he is going to get Wyatt an ice pack for his lip.
Don't think I am being a bad mom. About 99% of the time I tell them to "Shake it off", and "Ohhhh, that didn't hurt", or like Austin says, "Rub some dirt on it". Basically, Wyatt sooooooo didn't need an ice pack, but I was impressed Dax was being charitable. I told him "that's a great idea" and they both run to the freezer. I heard them open the door, dig around a little, and I holler nonchalantly for them to close the door.
Dax comes running back to my room. He proceeds to tell me that he has gotten Wyatt something really cold for his lip. I say "thank you!" thinking it's the Spider-man ice pack on the bottom of the freezer door. He's unusually excited about this really cold thing he has gotten for Wyatt and just as I start to inquire of him some more, Wyatt comes wandering in with an egg pressed to his lips.
An egg! Not hard boiled, not a pretend plastic Easter egg. A real live, cold, egg.
I start laughing, the boys start laughing and I sit down on the floor with both boys on my lap and we laugh some more as Wyatt holds the egg to his lip until he feels all better.
If you ask me, that is brotherly love.













