Stop, Drop and Blog

It’s not easy being the younger brother. I know. I mean, I don’t know-know.

I was the older sister… the much older sister. By the time my younger brother was doing stuff, I was sooooo over it. I had been there, done that. He followed me everywhere and I thought he was annoying. In fact, he’s still kinda annoying, but that’s another story.

I’ve watched you watch your brother for three years now. At first, you thought the sun rose and set on his head. You would stare and smile and coo and nom on his face. You rolled early to get to him. You talked early to talk with him. You walked and ran early to keep up with him. And you haven’t stopped trying ever since.

You’ve sat on the sidelines for two years of t-ball games, watching your brother hit the ball, run the bases, throw the ball and laugh with his teammates. You’ve run out onto the field, desperately wanting to play. You’ve stood on the sidelines with your glove on your hand. And on your head. I’ve watched you be patient about it. I’ve watched you be impatient about it, throwing spectacular tantrums to voice your displeasure at riding the bench of brotherhood.

That changed today.

Your first t-ball practice was uneventful, really. You guys didn’t even get to bat. Your coach recognized the young team and thought it would benefit everyone if we spent an hour working on throwing the ball. We’ve been working on that with you, of course, learning that — once again — you are like your Daddy: You throw right-handed and you bat left-handed. That’s pretty cool.

You kept up today, with minor encouragement from me. You stood next to your brother on the line and threw to your coach. You came to me a few times, but you always went back. Even when the ball freaked you out a little bit.

And then you got to run the bases. For the first time ever. We practiced the song. You knew where to go. And you went.

The joy on your face was something I want to remember forever. I wish I could approach new things in life with the same joy that you were exuding as you ran from first to second base. It was a pure joy. You didn’t care what other people thought of your open-mouthed grin as you ran your little legs. You didn’t care. And man, that was fantastic.

I wish that for you always. Whether you’re doing something just to keep up with your brother or doing something new just because you want to do it. I hope you run at it with your mouth hanging open and your laughter floating on the spring breeze. I hope you embrace it fully, even when you’re scared it’s going to hit you in the face. I hope you know that you have our support as much as your older brother does and that we’ll love you even when you throw yourself on the ground at the end of that something new because you simply don’t want to leave, for it to be over.

I wish this for you always. I wish this joy for your life.