I love you Finn Pa-twick.

This is what Reese says to her one-year-old brother often. Usually it's as she's got him in a headlock slash hug with or without his consent. He seems to accept this as par for the course, which, for him, it is. These siblings of ours are more than I imagined. I didn't grow up with a sibling, so this intense love - and the opposite of it - is new to me. Hearing screaming and walking in on the two of them, both dissolved in tears. Turning around in a clothes store, hearing Finn's chortles of laughter that only his sister can generate, finding her feeding him Cheerios off of her nose, one by one. Bending him to her for a goodnight kiss and seeing on his face unmatched, lottery-winning joy. She is most definitely his favorite person. And while she loves him wildly, she has divided loyalties, knowing he's still new on the scene and she'd best spread out her affections until he proves he's not a passing fad. But still, on a special Father-Daughter date to see Bee Movie, she finishes her M&M's even before the previews are over and then announces that it's time to go home. That she misses "Brother." That she doesn't want to be without him.

I can't blame her. Neither do I. Finn is a cherub of a baby. A strong, vocal cherub. So busy and sort of a Pig Pen meets Dash Incredible. A big sweet potato angel pie. Thighs like Thanksgiving drumsticks, but even juicier.

As much as we planned for him, he surprised me by appearing. By being a "he." And now, he floors me with what he's done to my heart - reconstructing it, remodeling a special section reserved for him and him alone. So, for all the wondering and worrying about how you can possibly love another child like you love your first, the answer reveals itself: you don't. You love them different. Differently and completely. But with the same wild abandon.

So Finn Patrick, even though I'm just one of your many devoted fans, you should know: Mama loves you so.


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