A Beautiful Moment Between Young Siblings... Almost

Alright, enough is enough.  I've let this blogging thing mutate into some heavy burden dangerously hanging over me and it's time to just suck it up and get back into it.  Part of the reason for this lapse, is that while writing every day about my life is not so foreign to me, this forum, knowing virtual strangers are getting their first impression of me here is.  Another reason for the blogger's block, is that I started off, out the gates, with this how to parenting-type post that I am far from equipped to follow up upon.  This is okay.  My purpose here was always just to jot down anything interesting, funny or poignant that took place in my life, day to day.

That being said, my second entry is actually following suit with my first, sticking with a parental tale from my weekend as a stay at home dad.

My wife works in a hospital as a physical therapist -- a Doctor of Physical Therapy I like to include, as she may be the first in my family line that holds this title.  She works one of every three weekends at which time it's just us four boys at home.  Sometimes family members or friends come by, perhaps out of pity, and I get a little break from the insanity.  Sometimes, this is not necessary as my days fly by full of fun.  This weekend was not either of those times.

You all lived through this weekend in Boston.  It was hot.  Sweltering, muggy, miserable as-all-hell-hot!  Usually, my house begins the day pretty cool and slowly comes to a boil, but this weekend at the crack of six, as we exited our bedrooms, we were already blasted with car exhaust-style heat.  Between work and schoolwork, I slept four and five hours respectively each night, so by 9 a.m. each morning I was already  sweaty and beyond cranky and perhaps my kids just followed my lead.

Today, after my soon-to-be two-year-old twin sons finished their lunch, as I did the dishes in the kitchen, I heard the unfamiliar sounds of all three of my children playing together.  There was screaming and loud guttural noises, but it was quite clear that for the very first time, they were all fully engaged with one another.

You see, my oldest Dylan was three when they arrived.  His whole world abruptly changed as he went from being the absolute center of our world, to a big brother of two, sharing his parents attention.  At first, they were not so offensive to him, as they were just sort of lumps lying in the corner, but as they have grown, they've become more and more offensive.  They mess up his Star Wars set-ups, steal his food and now even interrupt his television lineup as he sometimes has to turn off "Dino Dan," so they may watch "Elmo."  Not cool.

Soon after hearing these joyous sounds of play, as I noticed it was noon, on the nose, I announced that it was time for Mason and Kieran to take their naps.

"No Dada!" Dylan combination scream-whined.  "Not yet, I'm playing with them!"

My suspicions were correct.  He was enjoying his brothers for the very first time.  I beamed.  I had to seriously fight back my wide grin as I said,

"Dylan, you can play with them again as soon as they're up but they really need their nap right now so they can keep up with their big brother."

He looked down and thought hard.  After a moment his eyes raised back up to me and he said almost with a shrug,

"I guess that's alright Dada.  I'll just find something else to beat up."

Annnddd the sentimental, momentous occasion was over, done, finis.

Hey, at least they're now interacting -- that's gotta count for something.

Thought I'd share that one funny moment from my otherwise rough weekend.  Getting back on the blog horse really wasn't that difficult.  I'm gonna try and stay on here.  Take care y'all.