My 3 Sons

Yesterday while I was digging through old photos (and I mean that literally, album placement ended after roughly David's first birthday and the last 8 years or so are digital - everything in between is dumped in plastic tubs), I fell in love with my sons all over again. Not that I don't love them every other day, this was more about them as a trio, a band of brothers. The photographs and their bond began the moment Andrew was born. From the very first image of Scott and David sitting in the orange vinyl chair at Hartford Hospital holding their newborn baby brother (of course the one picture I can't find), these pictures tell the story of their childhood. The older brothers, only 19 months apart, were already a twosome, but even with the 5 years between them, they became three, who became one. In the early years they watched over Andrews crib, played on the floor with his toys , read him stories, taught him to crawl and walk and talk. It was always a team effort, no rivalry for his attention, no jealousy for mine. He glowed in their presence, as he still does to this day, and they smothered him (sometimes literally) with love and attention. As the years went by, he started to catch up, and the big brothers became friends. He followed and copied their every move; If his brothers were doing homework, Andrew sat at the kitchen table with his own "work" (which had its own payoff in the years ahead). He was building Legos and playing with action figures while most of his nursery classmates were still focused on blocks and coloring. They never fought, a scream every now and then if Andrew broke a Lego creation or the leg of a power ranger, but mostly hours on end happily together in the basement. I never had a great need to schedule the all-important "play date”, they had very little desire to be with anyone but each other. Up until maybe 5 or 6 years ago, there was always some configuration of a shared bedroom, by choice not necessity.  Scott and David started out together, and when Scott requested his own room at roughly 13, David chose to share with Andrew rather than go solo.  At some point thereafter, David moved into his own room and Andrew got his own too by default. Every vacation the threesome gets their own room; Andrew gets the rollaway bed even though he is now the tallest; some things are still decided by seniority. On a side note, the same rule applies for any road trip requiring all 3 to be in the back seat, Andrew gets the "bitch" seat (the middle), a few grumbles lately, but he accepts his placement with love. Looking through the years of photos I am struck by how obvious their birth order was, besides who was taller or had braces, Scott always assumed the older brother stance, with David and Andrew finding their places around him. I never had to tell them to pose, if I wanted a "brother" shot it just came naturally. You always knew who was the oldest and who was the baby, and now so many snapshots later, it is getting harder and harder to decipher. Height is out as a determining factor; it was a glorious moment when Andrews mark on the wall surpassed all the others. A milestone we had threatened his brothers with for many years, but when it finally happened last year they had to accept the cruel reality that genetics had dealt them. Boys will be boys, and height notwithstanding, Scott has assured Andrew that he could still "kick his ass" if need be (none of us are worried that will ever happen). And as I previously mentioned age rules over height in any situation regarding seating, sleeping, and shower order.

From my vantage point, starting back when they held Andrews hands as he took his first steps to watching 3 teenagers wander a block ahead of me deep in conversation on a New York City street or hearing them screaming at the PS 3 or a football game, there is nothing that can compare to those images or those sounds. There is an energy between them that is palpable; a rhythm that only they understand. Sometimes I get as close as possible without entering their space just to watch and listen. I have no idea how this magic was created; sure we always wanted them to love and support each other, but who knows how it's all going to turn out. We certainly practiced what we preached with our own siblings, but our family histories were different. Jeffrey’s relationship with his twin brother was obviously unique, and my boys were always keenly aware of their special bond. I have 2 brothers, who I love with my whole heart, but I was a bit of a solo act growing up. There was not a lot of bonding over Barbie’s or boy talk. The 8 year age difference between my older and younger brothers, with me in the middle, wasn't as conducive to the same kind of sibling relationship as my boys. I can't imagine either of my brothers hiding my report card from my parents, or me asking them to, as has happened in this house one too many times. It's those moments that you don't know if you should be mad that they lied to you or proud that they did right by their brother, in most cases it's a little bit of both. Only on one occasion when David enlisted Andrew to cover for him when he was supposed to be babysitting (we were out of town and due home late) and instead went to a friend’s house. Through multiple phone calls Andrew assured us that David was in the bathroom with a stomach ache and he would have him call when he got out. I'm guessing that the plan was to contact David to make the required call; not well thought out, as I would have known it wasn't from the house phone. The mission was aborted when Andrew finally cracked under pressure and admitted David had gone AWOL. I was not pleased, to say the least, but I was almost as upset that Andrew felt like he let his brother down. I would never ask that any of them to divulge information unless someone's health or safety was in question. In the few situations where I was concerned that might be the case I knew that each of them understood the difference between loyalty and responsibility. Even when they join forces to make fun of me, which happens frequently, I'm still happy they're on the same team and I accept defeat willingly. If Jeffrey defects to their side I get a little cranky, four against one is less fun, especially when you're the only girl. It's bad enough that I have fallen into more toilets without a seat than I care to remember. Luckily Jeffrey figured out a while back that only he has to get in bed with me at the end of the day and the boys are forgiven much more readily.

As hard as it has been for me to watch each of them leave my nest to venture out into the world alone,  I know that the bond of brothers will travel with them wherever they go. When they are all under my roof there is nothing better, but knowing that they are as deeply connected under separate roofs is a close second. There is no greater gift I could have given them than each other, and to know that they know that is every parents dream. My 3 sons, my 3 greatest accomplishments, my every wish come true.