Hiram in July of 2009 (4 weeks old)

Eldyn in January of 2012 (6 weeks old)

For example, we’ve relegated most of his “real” hockey equipment to outside. Which means, if Hiram wants to play hockey in the living room, he needs to get creative. Here are a few examples:

This bottle koozie is his hockey glove (or, more cutely, his hockey glub)

This spoon is his hockey stick, although now he’s started calling it his “hockey spoon”

This piece of fake pepperoni is one of many, many hockey pucks. If for some reason, one of the 25 pizza topping pieces isn’t readily available, he’ll also use a balled up sock or a puzzle piece.

This sippy cup is his water bottle. I guess this isn’t that imaginative but it’s still cute how he likes it to sit on the net (a.k.a. the footstool) and sip it between periods (like daddy does).

This blank space is his pads and helmet, which are imaginary but are always buckled, strapped and snapped in place before any playing can begin.

…

Hiram David, you are awesome.

It’s funny because before I felt this urge, I wasn’t missing anything. I didn’t sulk around thinking, “he never asks me anything about myself!” But now that I want to tell him things, I realize how little he knows.

Like, he doesn’t know I used to have a big dog named Joe. He loves dogs. Don’t you think he’d find this interesting?

Or, he doesn’t know I have my very own hockey skates. Or that I like to write stories about him on my blog.

OK fine. I realize this is the first step towards Hiram rolling his eyes at me when he’s 12 but I’m not sure I can help myself.

Saturday night Brad and I went on a date! It was our first date since becoming 2-boy parents so it felt a little monumental. I kept looking at the other people out walking around all super causal on a Saturday night. They were all just like, “Whatev…I go out on Saturday nights.” And past 8:30 to boot!

It got me wondering if any of these people were two-kid parents too. And if so, how come they didn’t look frazzled enough to have just finished packing up the necessary outfits, back-up outfits, diapers, milk, beds, pacifiers, swaddle blankets, fuzzy blankets, ni-night blankets and kids that Brad and I assembled to get ourselves out on a date? And even more importantly, how come they weren’t completely giddy like me?

Yesterday my sweet Bradly surprised me by taking the day off. Considering we have a newborn who has yet to show his cute little face in public (other than in the doctor’s office), I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday. It started with snow (and therefore, donuts) and ended with an awesome party at my parent’s house. The middle included a very nice nap and watching a romantic comedy while it was still light outside. What could be more indulgent than that?

Yahoo! So far Hiram likes his brother. Here are the little bits of proof I’ve been collecting to support my hypothesis.

1) The way he talks to Eldyn is so dang sweet. If Eldyn is upset, Hiram is the first one to offer a few soothing words. He says things like, “Don’t worry Eldyn, we’re almost home.” or “Don’t cry, I’m right here.”

2) This morning, Hiram seemed happy to realize that Eldyn was “only [his] brother.”

3) Upon returning home from daycare, his first priority is to locate “him” and show him something important. Usually, this important thing is his football pants or a masterpiece he made at school that day.

4) And the best proof of all: Hiram says “I love you Eldyn” and kisses him on the head.

The proof is in the pudding, I’d say.

Tonight he asked to see “a Zamboni dumping snow” and Brad showed him this video: http://youtu.be/6ba0z54iO4U

In my whole life, I never realized a Zamboni collected this much snow during one resurfacing session. I am now smarter thanks to my 2-year old.

Probably not the last time, either.

When Brad runs into Target and the rest of us stay in the car. I put in the same amount of waiting in the car effort but we get double the children not lugged around the store return. And it doesn’t stop there. If Brad is running into Target for something we need (diapers) he can grab both sizes by adding only nominal additional seconds to the Target trip. Extremely efficient.

And then there’s the reduced worry. You see, I have already spent a year of my life worrying that cluster feeding will never end and that I will never again sleep for more than 3 hours at a time. With two kids, it’s like I have reduced the amount of time spent worrying (per child) by a whopping 50 percent. Soooo. That’s awesome.

Or…whatever. That’s just a hypothetical example.

You wanna know who that person is in Eldyn’s life? His mama. I’m the crazy “smile” person. For two weeks now, I’ve been waiting for his first real (read: not gassy) smile. His first “social” smile as they say on all the web sites I’ve found by Googling “when will my baby smile?” (FYI: 4-6 weeks). I’ve tried hamming it up. I’ve tried singing and dancing. I’ve tried light-up chew toys. I’ve tried, well, everything.

I know. I know what they say. No one goes to college without smiling. But here’s the thing.

Eldyn. I need you to smile at me. Sort of soon. I mean. It’s just you and me kid. Sitting on the couch all day and nursing together all night. We’re like two peas in a pod. Only one of the peas just eats and sleeps and poops in my bed and the other pea does all the work. And nobody’s smiling!

So how about it? A big gummy one for your old lady? Let’s see it, little one.