Siblings

Before GiGi was born, I worried that RJ would hate her. I'm an only child, so I'm not familiar with the sibling concept. I don't understand the boundaries of the sibling relationship--or the lack thereof.

Tonight, I watched RJ show GiGi see-food. (Chew food, open mouth, "see, food?!").  I was horrified. Grossed out. I mean, ick. GiGi, on the other hand, laughed. She sits in the middle of her table in her Bumbo seat during supper time--we felt too guilty when she was laying in her bouncy seat next to the table. She is a person after all. She likes to feel involved. Now she's involved with a purpose: center piece.

She's a communicator. I hadn't realized how much could be discussed through coos and goos. She tells me "I'm good" at least once a day. (It might actually be more like "ahgoooo," but I'm her mommy, and I know she's telling me she's good.). She talks a lot. So does her brother. They chat about their days, and sometimes I find out more about what's going on in RJ's world through his conversations with his baby sis than I do through my conversations with him.

Two nights ago, I bathed GiGi in the tub with RJ. He's observant, so I got the inevitable, "Hey, where her junk?!" But, I forged ahead, answered as best I can. And, sibling tub time was born. RJ blew bubbles while GiGi floated on her back. (Her thighs give her lots of floatation).  Sibling tub time gave way to GiGi's first ever belly laugh. I've tried to get that belly laugh from her. I've danced. I've sang. I've shaken my boom boom. The best I can get is a coo, a goo, and a smile. Big brother, on the hand, gets belly laughs.

Every morning RJ waits impatiently for GiGi to wake up. Sometimes he helps her along. One morning I discovered him poking between the rails of her crib with his toddler broom.  "What are you doing?" I hollered.  "I want her to wake up," he responded, matter of fact. Of course mom. He just wants her to wake up.  Once she's awake, they begin their morning routine. She lays in the floor, and he lays beside her. And on top of her. He "sniggles" her--his version of snuggling. An inch from her face, he asks her, "How your day been?" He pokes his fingers in her nose, and every now and then I catch him licking her cheeks. (They are pretty irresistible.).

I'm GiGi's mom, so it's my obligation to defend her from sticky fingers and brotherly licks. But, I'm learning that in their sibling world, I can't defend against brotherly love. RJ doesn't hate GiGi. He loves her, and I'm learning that in sibling world, the boundaries of socially acceptable behavior are blurred--or non-existent. And, for this only child, it's a joy to watch.