My boys used to love each other.
I remember thinking how amazing it was that they got along so well when they were younger. Andrew was a few months shy of 3 years old when D-man was born. He would hug his “brudda” and help hold his bottle. He would hold Dylan’s hand when he got shots at the doctor’s office, help him put boots on, etc. It was super adorable.
Other boy mom friends shared stories about their sons fighting constantly, almost from day one. I couldn’t imagine my sweet boys being awful to each other.
Well, something has shifted. The personalities are in full clash-dom. My soon-to-be tween “too cool” boy cannot tolerate his goofy, silly and “annoying” little brother. And that little brother will do anything he can to poke, and poke, and poke, and poke until he gets a response from his big brother. This results in a lesson for Andrew about not punching someone in the face when they irritate the daylights out of you, because you can’t do that in real life no matter how much you want to.
I guess this is reality setting in. I’m trying to remember how my brother and I fought. We were horrible. We may have been 21 yrs old when we started liking each other again. Is that how long I have to wait this thing out? 10 more years?
In the meantime, I’m (somewhat manipulatively) finding little things to ease some of the animosity. For example, Dylan is still holding onto believing in Santa and his Elf on the Shelf. So, we’ve entrusted his big brother to be the one to move the elves each night. It makes him feel like a big kid. And it makes me happy that he’s actually doing something kind for his brother, whether he realizes it or not.
Regardless, I think they do love each other deep down. But for now, the straight man vs. funny man duo isn’t truly a comic act yet.