I always wanted a big brother. I used to daydream about how easy my life would be if I had someone older and manlier and bigger to stick up for me. Instead, in our estrogen-dominated home, I blazed the trail and my little brother had the misfortune of being sandwiched between a bossy older sister and a tattletale little sister.
But in our house, there's a big brother, and this post is dedicated to him, and all of the cool things he has taught his younger brother and sister:
* My twenty-month-old doesn't say much, but his vocabulary does include "poo poo."
* He also knows how to fake burp.
* Whenever Annie puts on a princess costume we have to guess her superpower (because looking beautiful is just a facade for being kick-butt tough).
* Both of my younger kids know what a dwarf hutia is and where it can be found (that is, of course, if it isn't already extinct).
* My four-year-old can play a mean game of hangman and can add simple sums faster than her mentor.
* She also knows the back-door entrance to the Primary room, which allows both kids to score their favorite seats ahead of the other kids.
* They've learned young about manly feats of strength as their brother lifts them up (and bodyslams them to the ground).
* Isaac knows what a Lego tastes like.
* They know Mommy means business when she starts to count to three.
Isaac knows the names of every member of our family. When he wakes up in the morning, he starts to call for me. After a second or two, he changes his tune and yells out, "By-cee! By-cee!" Of course, Annie is the one who usually rescues him from the confines of his crib, but Bryce will always be the much admired older brother.
--originally published 7/13/06
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