Family

So, I have this brother. Matt. He's my kid brother. There's only a little more than three years (and a sister) between us, making him 37, but he's still the baby, you know? The one who got spoiled protected a bit growing up, who still chafes under the ever-so-slightly overwhelming concern of the three of us women in the family. (We worry. You know how that goes.)

He's been on an amazing roll in the last two years, and suddenly, it turns out he's, like, an adult. And a business owner. And a husband, and a stepfather, and as of shortly after midnight last night, a father.

A FATHER.

My little brother is a FATHER.

He has babies. Babies! Two! He and his wife had twin boys. Boys! The first on my side of the family (winning him the Grand Prize of giving a child our grandfather's name, which I believe every single one of us, all seven cousins, have at one point or another wanted to do).

He's become this completely new and amazing person over the last twenty-four months. I mean, he's always had these elements of his personality in play, different times in his life when he's shouldered responsibilities or taken on important roles in the lives of those he loves, but suddenly they've all come together and he's... he's a man.

And a father.

Congratulations, Matt. I love you. 









(Even if you don't read my blog. Neener neener neener!)