My Two Sons

I've got two sons. One is 4 and half years old, one is four and a half months old. I think the baby ate more carrots tonight in his five spoons of baby food than his brother did from crudites with dinner, but it is what it is. Jackson is, not at all surprisingly, a wonderful big brother. He would love on Dylan all the time if we would allow it, but I'm afraid his exuberant love for his brother will end up in a squished and unhappy baby. They bumped heads once when Jackson was demonstrating his affection for Dylan and that did not go well. It turns out babies have no pain tolerance. He takes pride in helping out with little things like hanging up Dylan's towel after a bath, helping with his toys, trying to comfort him in the car when Dylan is not loving the ride home. I'm so proud of Jackson for being such a great big brother. I was never so nice to my brother as he is to his (sorry Eric). Dylan is a pretty easy baby. Jackson was too, but they are easy in different ways. Jackson used to spit up all the time (ALL THE TIME), but he was sleeping 9 hours a night pretty much the minute he turned 12 weeks old and 12 hours a night at five months old. We didn't have to sleep train him...he came scheduled right out of the gate and he let me know he was ready to sleep by simply not eating. I would wake up to feed him and poof, he was too sleepy to eat and that was the end of that particular feeding. He was as predictable as a watch. His baby brother rarely spits up. He cries just as often as Jackson did, which was almost never. He is bigger than Jackson was, but isn't as hard core of a sleeper at this point as his brother was. Jackson was a dependable and punctual and efficient eater. Dylan is mostly punctual and sometimes efficient. The difference is that I don't worry about how much or when or anything about Dylan when it comes to that stuff. He's a second child who has it easier. I'm a first child, but the first child of what people would call today "free range" parents. I wasn't allowed to play inside in the summer time most days. My mom expected us to be outside except for at lunch. I had to come in when the street lights came on. We were left to our own devices and with the exception of my brother destroying his feet by dragging them to stop his big wheel, and my knocking myself silly and scraping off my face by jumping my bike off railroad ties before 3rd grade, we made it largely unscathed. Point being, despite the fact that I was a generally good kid, it wasn't because my parents were on me constantly. Jackson doesn't have it so easy. We aren't helicopter parents, and he's too little to be turned totally loose free-range style in my opinion, so we're not quite that laid back. But first children are the ones that parents screw up on. We make mistakes with the first time around...and we will with number two as well, but with Jackson we learn as we go. We are lucky he is a great kid. Super smart, a real sweetie pie. He's laying the groundwork for his brother, and I hope that when they grow up Dylan is able to appreciate what his big brother has put up with from their mom and dad. I hope Jackson is able to forgive us for our shortcomings and I hope he knows that we are just trying to do the best we can, as we obviously know he is as well. I hope he knows we love him unconditionally...I remind him all the time, and he reminds me all the time that he feels the same way. Me and my boys....I don't know if I could imagine life any other way.