My New Baby Brother: A Mystery of Surprise

I remember the lead up to that day, I was excited and curious. I did not know what to expect. 

But I clearly remember telling my mom to give my baby brother a good name so he wouldn’t be picked on in the future. I was just 10 years old and never felt comfortable holding a baby, let alone having one living under the same roof. I was also the jokester and attention-getter of the family and that is the way it was going to stay. 

My Aunt Kathy, my mom’s sister, and my mom discussed names out in the main room. I was in my bedroom, within ears range. I heard different names coming from them and laughter, and I heard some name I did not like and ran out of my bedroom AND SHOUTED, “You better not name him that!” 

Being 10, I felt the authority to stake my claim, because let's face it, it was going to be my younger brother and I was not going to put up with any names that could affect him in this cruel world. Well the night of reckoning came and my mom and dad rushed to the hospital and my aunt stayed to babysit. 

Well the arrival happened, and my aunt, a jokester, woke me up and said he was born. Waking me up in her voice amid the excitement, the first thing that came out of my mouth was, “What did they name him?”

She said Chester. Now, nothing against the name, I just  personally did not at all like it and I went  basically berserk, yelling  until she said she was joking and his name was Robert. That was good enough for me, so all was so far so good. 

My dad took me down to see my new sibling. When I went to where all the babies were I tried to guess which one was him because I was behind a glass window and could see a few babies from a short distance. Looking for the cutest one, I finally saw the nurse grab him. The nurse and my mom, if I remember, came up to the other side of the window with my brother and now I was so excited for him to come home. 

There he was. My new baby brother coming through the door in my mom's arms and staring at him and seeing the faces of us. He was a new member of the family. 

I also found out that a baby could be a bit annoying to a 10-year-old like me. No longer were the nights filled with silence, but sort of a complaining cry echoing from a distance. I started to understand how important parents can be and what they have to deal with. It made me appreciate what parents go through to take on a family. 

I was just waiting for my turn to hold him. I was an older brother – part-time caretaker. Showing him off as if he was Elvis, but only 6 months old. Starting fifth grade was a chance to bring him and show him off to my teacher, and with a sense of pride telling her he was my brother and he would be the best at everything as he got older. I even picked out an outfit that I felt made him look like the cutest, most adorable baby in the world. 

I really can say that having a sibling 10 years younger – me in my prime trouble-making stage and him just a baby – certainly changed the way I thought of life. Seeing, then being part of the responsibility process and the crying and the communication with a baby, opened my world up to more than just riding bikes and causing trouble for everyone. I saw the joy a baby can have on a family and a big brother. I would not change a thing.