I recently dumped a few photos of Collin on Flickr and have looked at them a number of times.  They’re insanely cute shots of him wearing a cowboy hat and themed shirt.  But as much as they make me smile, they also make me a bit sad.

Seeing Collin smiling, sitting up, rolling over, reaching, standing, eating, laughing, and babbling has been great fun.  There’s no denying that.  The problem is that I then contrast that with our experiences in Gareth’s infancy.  Doctors, nurses, therapists, monitors, mist tubing… unable to sit, stand, roll over, eat. 

At the time, I was so shellshocked by the whole situation that I don’t think I ever stopped to consider what we weren’t experiencing.  And, with time, I grew comfortable with the realization that I should just enjoy the things Gareth could do instead of wishing for the things he couldn’t.  

Now we have a kid who can do all those things, and I feel guilty taking pleasure in them.  I feel like every time I enjoy Collin’s development, I’m somehow discounting Gareth’s.  Every time I play with Collin, I have to wonder if I played the same with Gare.  And every time I take Collin’s picture, I feel like I need to swing around and snap a few of Gare to maintain balance in the universe.

At some point, soon, Collin will surpass Gareth physically.  It’s going to be a challenge finding a way to keep Gareth encouraged to work hard at achieving the things that will come easily to his little brother.

But I love both my boys.  We’ll figure it out.