How Does Zuzu Like Having a Little Brother?

“How does Zuzu like having a little brother?” That’s the most common question I was asked after Bear was born. It’s a sweet question, people wanting to be inclusive of Zuzu in the midst of the baby excitement. And there’s reason to be curious. I’d heard from a couple sources that two is the hardest age for introducing a sibling. One-year-olds are too young to resent the change, and by age three they can understand what’s going on better than two-year-olds.

So how does Zuzu like having a little brother? It’s more fun to answer that question four months later. At the time, all I could say was: she’s very sweet with him, and thankfully has never lashed out at him, even in the tough moments when she was feeling needy for our attention. She may have been mad that I wasn’t holding her, but she’s never once acted mad at Bear for existing, which is what I’d kinda been preparing for.

From the beginning she liked to take care of him, the way she cared for her dolls. She was anxious to return his pacifier to his mouth after it had been spit out. She would bring him toys and blankets. She asked to hold him, so we’d lay him across her lap.

But still sometimes I’d look at her and wonder if she was ever thinking, “This baby thing was fun for a while, but can’t we send him back to the hospital now?” Did her heart claim him as her brother, or was he just a creature living in the house? I couldn’t tell: does she love him yet?

One evening recently I began to think I could answer that question. I was holding Bear in my lap while Zuzu played, and he was watching her every move. She looked up at him and said “come on!” and took his hand. I held him while she continued holding his hand, and we walked like this through the house to her bedroom. She then invited him into her cardboard fort, so in he went. Zuzu was in raptures that he was in there with her. She laughed every time she looked at him. She showed him toy after toy. And he smiled smile after smile. And my brain was full of dopamine and I almost couldn’t cope with how happy I was, even though I was straining uncomfortably to keep Bear upright in a cardboard box too small for me, and it had otherwise been a tiring, whiny night. That moment erased the tiring whiny part.

Zuzu looks for Bear when she gets up in the mornings. She lies next to him on his blanket when he does tummy time. Twice I’ve entered a room to find Zuzu hugging Bear while he’s in his bouncy seat. He was crying both times because her version of hugging was more like smothering, but hey, that’s what second kids get to deal with.

She enjoys him. Unprompted, she will smile and chuckle at something he does.

Recently I was tucking Zuzu into bed and said, “God made the whole world, did you know that?” She nodded. I said, “He made trees and birds and flowers and water and the sky, and God made you!” she looked up at me. “And God made Bear!” she said.

It’s been over four months since he was born. Has she already forgotten being an only child? Does she remember the newness of Bear, or does she feel like he’s always been around?

Daddy and I were in the living room together a couple nights ago, listening to Zuzu’s happy voice as she played in her bedroom. We both said we were looking forward to hearing the children’s voices together, when Bear is old enough to play.

Sibling love. It was one of the greatest gifts of my childhood, and now it is one of the many delights of motherhood.