While we’re on the subject of siblings and whether they are 1) terribly pointless, or 2) the most important gift you can EVER give your child (because those are the only two options, you know), let’s talk about the wonderful, magical moment when you introduce existing children to their new sibling. And how wonderful and magical it is.
Wait. No. I meant the opposite of that.
This is the photo I used — after cropping and tweaking and edge-blurring and etc. — to commemorate the moment when my three boys came together for the first time:
Gorgeous, right? The perfect mix of curiosity, suspicion and tenderness. Also, the baby appears to be in no danger of getting dropped or sat on and is not crying.
In other words, what a load of crap.
A few seconds later, after Noah’s hand actually made contact with Ike’s head and startled the bejezus out of him, Ike let out a howl. Noah fled to the opposite side of the room and refused to go near the baby again. And Ezra was like, “Yeah, I’m out too. YOU deal with this.”
I just can’t even right now, you guys.
They spent the next 45 minutes or so jumping off the hospital room’s furniture and windowsills, screeching and squawking like Angry Birds while I stayed in bed, grinning stupidly and basking in the chaos of my new-and-improved life.
By the time I saw them again, my post-c-section IV had been removed so I was no longer under the influence of the kickass painkillers.
This is what happened next. (And…a lot of times after that. Up to and including THIS MORNING, ACTUALLY.)
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