I wondered if they understood anything at all about a family's love. That it's not a finite pie, with each addition to the family meaning less love, time, and attention in everyone else's "slice." That each new addition multiplies the love, instead of dividing it. That I truly feel bad for Sprout, who as the oldest by nearly three years had no little playmates to entertain and dote on him when he was younger. The poor guy was stuck watching clueless mom and dad try to amuse him, unable to come up with stuff that subsequent children have been privileged to enjoy like "turn Costco box into a racecar and push the toddler around the house as fast as you can go" or "create obscenely loud, impromptu marching band and tour the living room to entertain the baby."
I suppose I don't really care what everyone else thinks of our little family, though - it's what SSHH and I and the kids think that matters. And they are genuinely overjoyed to have a new little brother - despite mom's time and lap being occupied with a nursing newborn right now, and despite the general upheaval that always comes with a new baby. Even little Doodle, not yet two years old and at times a bit confounded by her new "big girl" status, will sit on my knee for an hour, beaming and patting her sleeping brother and saying "Nice bay-bee! Nice bay-bee!" over and over again.
The kids get it - every life is cause for celebration. When we told them that we were expecting another baby, Sprout's response was "I'm really lucky to have so many people to love me!" The idea that a new sibling might somehow be taking something away from them is completely foreign to them, They see their little brother for who he is, a tiny person fearfully and wonderfully made by God as we all are, and they love him unconditionally and infinitely. And they've welcomed him with joyfully open arms. I learn so much from them, always. May we follow their example and do the same for all of God's children.
