How to Hold a Baby

Joey has always had an affinity for babies. At the ripe old age of 20 months, he ceased to be the baby of our family, and has been lovingly attentive to little ones ever since. From his first gentle caresses of newborn Clara, to his fascination with every new cousin that comes along, he's proven to be cautious, careful, loving and just a little territorial.

When little Molly entered his domain, all of these qualities kicked into high gear.  He very much departs from my parenting style, and is known to hover, worry, and "helicopter" if he thinks a baby may be in danger. He'll frantically whisk Molly away from uncapped markers, unattended scissors, hot chicken tenders, a sharp army figurine, a sleeping dog, a stairway, a driveway... never mind that I'm there to intervene as well. In fact, sometimes I get the uneasy feeling that Joey thinks it's his job to police me. Who else has a five year-old worriedly reminding them to close bathroom doors, blow on hot food, and put away small toys?

In a nutshell, our little OCD caretaker could probably get a job in a daycare facility right now.

So when he began physically hauling his little charge around the carpeted family room, carrying her from one bedroom to another, and bodily placing her in her Jumperoo or her Exersaucer, part of me was horrified... and another part of me was strangely not worried at all. Seeing the look of pure joy on Molly's face as she's being ferried from one spot to another by her brawny big brother makes me wish every little girl could have such an awesome protector in her corner.

The best part? Our big boy isn't too big to be babied himself.