It’s hard when you are nine years old, and your brother is having a birthday.
It’s harder when your own birthday is 5 months away.
That’s what’s happening at our house.
Big brother Marco’s birthday is approaching and younger brother Jonny is preparing to be jealous.
We try to encourage the idea of being a good “birthday brother.” That’s when the non-birthday person tries with all their might to rejoice at the blessings given to the birthday boy.
Sometimes this works. Sometimes this fails miserably.
I took a walk with my younger son Jonny today — my arm around his shoulder, pep talk on my mind.
Me: “Let’s ask God to help you be a really good birthday brother. I know it’s hard. It’s nicer when you are the one getting the presents. I’m sure he will share his things with you.”
Jonny: “He never shares.”
Me: “Look at my eyes. That’s not true. He’s a good sharer. You are a good sharer too. And you’re good at reading….and running….and speaking Spanish….and drawing…”
Jonny: Silence and trying not to smile.
Me: “So, let’s try, ok? I don’t feel bad when it’s your birthday, or Marco’s birthday. I’m happy for all the birthdays, even when it’s not my own birthday.”
Jonny: “You don’t have a birthday. You have Mother’s Day.”
© Lisa M. Luciano ~ a birthday-less being who was brought by a stork with a nametag around her neck marked “Mama.”