Good behavior is just a party away….

My son (my eldest son), has quite a big heart. He hugs, he kisses, and at nighttime he says,” Can we talk?” It’s adorable, and it’s something I’ve become quite dependent on. If I’m feeling down in the dumps, there’s a great big Graham-hug waiting for me whenever I need it. Or so I thought.

Bring home a baby, and all bets are off. Just a few days after returning home from the hospital, I ventured out of the bedroom to find my little man playing in the living room. “Come over and give your mom a hug,” I asked. In return he sneered and resolutely stated, “No.” A kiss, then? How about just sit in my lap? Desperately, I even offered to play cars. The response? “I want my Daddy.”Now, I know that there will probably be a day when I will not be the center of my son’s world. But, I am not prepared for it to happen so quickly. I had to think fast on my feet, as fast as one can when drugged up percoset. “Hey Graham,” I said. “If you come and give me a hug and a kiss and be a really good boy, when I get to feeling better, we’ll have a Big Brother Party.” That did it. A party? A Big Brother Party? He was sold. And it kept him on his best behavior for weeks to come.

What is this Big Brother Party, you ask? Well, we kind of made it up as we went along. But, anytime we had a particularly trying moment (like when the baby was screaming for hours on end, or when Graham wanted to get in my lap but couldn’t because I was nursing), we talked about what kind of cake we would make, who we would invite, and even picked out what kind of balloon he would get.

About four weeks later, we had a Big Brother Party. It was a small affair. We invited family over for a cookout and had the party-basics according to Graham: a Thomas the Train balloon, white cake with green icing and sprinkles, and his grandparents. In exchange, I got a month of good behavior, my first glass of post-baby wine, and the ability to pass off my newborn to all of the eager grandparents in attendance. I’d say it was worth it.