When they wake up, if its only one of them that is awake, I go in and pick them up, and they reach - whole body reach - for the other crib. They want their brother.
When they steal toys from each other, which only happens 100 times a day, they come to me and tattle on the other. With grunting, and pointing, and whining and crying. Usually, they do not give it back. I have to retrieve the toy from the stealer, which ends with more crying.
But sometimes, and only sometimes, when I say "K... give the toy back. He was playing with it." And my sweet boy will hand the toy back to his brother. And this mama melts.
Sometimes when they're playing together, laughing, hiding, peeking out, running wild... they'll stop. Mouths open, lean in together for a kiss.
Sometimes Kyrie will scream. Like a gleeful screech. And then Kingston will do it. And they'll go back and forth, screeching and laughing and screeching some more. It's loud. And crazy. And hilarious.
Every time we put them in their highchairs, they go in for a high five for each other. Every time.
They love each other. So fiercely for such little ones who haven't been on this earth for long. The one thing they have always, always had in the world is each other. To love with, to laugh with, to experience life with. I'm so thankful for that. And I'm so thankful that I get to be a part of it.
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