I think one of my favorite things about being a parent is "catching" my kids in the act of doing something really great, when they don't know we are watching.
While I will be thrilled if my kids are straight-A students, amazingly athletic or talented, or achieve any other accomplishments - I'm always the most proud when they are good people. I love when the teachers speak to the social aspect of school - that Gavin is well-liked, treats other kids well, doesn't have conflicts. When I see notes from his friends about how nice he is, or thanking him for helping with something (seems they frequently are asked to write letters to classmates, that or he gets lots of unsolicited mail!) - these are the comments that make my heart swell.
I mean....there's really no point in being the world's greatest (insert anything) if you're a complete a**, am I right?
So for all the fighting and backtalking that went down at my mom's Sunday afternoon, and the apparent funk that had taken over by Sunday evening, I was so glad that I overslept and missed gym class Monday morning.
Because I was able to spy on this sweet scene, which restored my faith in what a great, sweet kid Gavin really is.
I was trying to sneak out of the house around 6:30, Sam was stirring and I was hoping to get out the door before he woke up. Otherwise it's cry and put on the guilt so that Mom lays down with me "Sleep on your tummy, Mommy?"
I was in the mud room, coat on, bags in hand. I hear crying. I hear Gavin. Talking in a sweet, reassuring voice.
"Do you want Bubby to carry your B's* to Daddy's room? It's ok, Sam, you're ok. I'll help you. Do you want to bring your milkie?"
He carried Sam's blankets into our room, while I stood frozen in the mud room as they passed, lights off, hoping I wouldn't be discovered. When I thought it safe, I came back out to the living room and gave Gavin a big hug and told him what a great big brother he was.
I drove to work, a morning just minutes before ruined by oversleeping (not sticking to routine gives me anxiety), now happy and relaxed with the scene I had been lucky to witness.
Such an amazing thing, about brothers. No matter what, in the dark, in the quiet, when no one is watching, they always seem to be there for each other.
*B's = blankets. Both boys have an affinity for blankets and sleep with three. Sam has recently added to his collection, having recently claimed my couch blanket as his own, along with a huge blue one that resided on the guest bed in the basement.