Big Brother

Today Owen ran from the living room to the kitchen and I thought someone was pounding on the door. With each of his footsteps my heart started to beat faster while I thought about who would be pounding on our front door at 10am. The police? A neighbor in trouble? A bold burglar?

And just as I turned around to walk cautiously to the door, I noticed the pounding stopped just as Owen stopped running to pick up a goldfish off the ground.

Owen likes to eat. When he finishes his lunch he reaches over and grabs whatever Josie hasn't eaten, which is usually everything on her plate. She happily obliges and pushes the food closer to him as she jumps out of her chair.

Now that he is learning more words, I am starting to notice how much he talks about food. Every other word out of his mouth has something to do with bread. Every third word is apple juice. The only positive side to his food obsession is that he isn't picky. So at the very least I knew his nutritional needs are being met. With abandon.

There has been a sudden increase in the number of people that ask if Owen and Josie are twins. And a heightened level of surprise when I say no. A woman in the elevator at the doctor's office actually went so far as to invite us to her twin's play group. I am so desperate for friends and for things to do that I almost said yes.

A few months ago, I asked Josie who her little brother was while the two of them played in the bath. She told me she didn't have a little brother. "You don't? What about Owen?" I asked her while I rinsed the soapy suds from her hair.

"He's not a little brother," she said as she lined up the foam letters along the side of the tub. "He's a big brother."

"I guess you're right," I said as her big brother was taking the foam letters off the side of the tub and lining them up on his big, round belly. I guess that's a good thing, I thought. Because every girl should have a big brother looking out for them.