My brother & his wife were at a conference in California for 4 days. They asked me to watch their 2-year-old son while they were gone. Why anybody would trust me with their child when I'm clearly struggling to raise my own, I can't be sure.
Isaiah, my brother's son, is a sweet kid. He's a little on the sensitive side (read: a man not afraid to cry), but he's sincerely charming. He smiles at anyone who will look his way, and he's all about free kisses. He shakes hands like a gentleman, and loves to hold his 5-month-old sister.
And then there's Rain ...
Rain was less than cordial with Isaiah during his stay. Oh, she was fascinated with our short visitor for the first hour, but once she got that feeling he wasn't going anywhere ... well, she rolled up the welcome mat. Then he made the mistake of trying to love on her while she was nursing. Rain grunted, gave him the "Can't you see I'm busy here?" eyebrow, and shrugged him off.
But Isaiah is a determined suitor. He attempted again and again to snuggle Rain, and she rebuffed him with howls. He stared at Rain, puzzled by her agitation. I never realized that for the past few months, while Rain nursed, I hardly spoke. I'm usually reading, typing, or sleeping when she's nursing (hmmm ... that doesn't make me sound like a very involved mom, does it?). Poor Isaiah is standing beside Rain, cooing and chatting for her attention, and she's grunting for him to put a lid on it.
Our first night together as a temporary family was tragic for those living within a quarter-mile of our apartment. Isaiah cried because he hates to go to sleep. Rain cried because she hates kids who cry when she's ready to go to sleep. Isaiah cried louder, because he hates for anyone to feel bad enough to cry. Rain cried loudest, because she wouldn't be outdone. She might've had to wait one minute longer to get her diaper changed while her cousin got his changed, but by golly, when it came to screamin', she played second fiddle to no one.
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