When people see us out and about with the kids, typically the first question asked is, "they are HOW far apart??"
Those that don't know us figure we are loyal family builders, or terrible birth control takers.
As you know, we may be the former, and have no need for the latter.
No matter what, we knew we wanted at least two kids.
Siblings? They are important.
They have been a critical part of both of our developments as people, and we only hope that our kids will be so lucky.
The New York Times editorial pages ran a piece this weekend on "The Gift of Siblings". You need to read it: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/05/26/opinion/sunday/bruni-the-gift-of-siblings.html?pagewanted=all
While I can certainly speak to what a gift my siblings-in-law are, I am more adept at what a gift my own siblings are.
My family is awesome. Our stories and lives are interwoven and hilarious.
We live states and states away from each other.
We no longer cheat off each other's Spanish tests (I'm looking at you Matt).
We no longer make up songs about how amazing ice cream is (Emilie).
We still mock Emilie until she cries at all major family holidays.
We know Matt's going to be grumpy within the first 36 hours, and then return home with a $150 sushi meal that no kid is going to touch.
We announce with delight each other's children's births and accomplishments.
We worry when one is facing scary health challenges.
I didn't walk until I was over 18 months old. Matt fetched things for me.
He definitely didn't mean to hit me in the back of my head with that baseball bat at nine.
We lied to our parents together then.
"Siblings not only pick up the slack but also act as decoys, providing crucial distraction. "
We may or may not lie together to our parents now.
We celebrate birthdays and holidays and baptisms. Trying to do so together. Not accomplishing that nearly as much as we should.
We play poker.
We pour cocktails.
We still bug the hell out of each other.
"They’re the only people in the world you can be your worst self with and they’ll still accept you."
He delights in her.
He calls her "Aya", pats her tummy and tries to kiss her.
He fetches her toys.
He steals her toys.
Robbie and Annie would be so lucky.