B ~ Brother

I've written a lot about my family, both my immediate family, as well as the wonderful extended family I'm blessed with. But I've never written about my brother more than in passing. It's his turn, and long overdue. I'd like you to meet DataBoy.

I was seven when he was born, and it was very hard being patient, waiting for him to be born. Not only was I excited to have another sibling, but I was more than ready for my mother to quit barfing everywhere. You might recall that I'm vomit-phobic (V ~ Vomit? Hmm...will have to consider that...) so I didn't really want to be anywhere near her. For nine months.

My parents had two girls, and were praying for a boy. I remember my mother (who does NOT subscribe to there being any such thing asTMI, EVER) explaining in great detail about how to stack the odds in the male direction. I was SEVEN. I didn't need that information. Then.

The night he was born I awoke to the sounds of my mother barfing (of course) and then taking a shower. Hmm. I went to investigate. She was getting dressed! In the middle of the night! “The baby is coming soon!” I didn't get any more sleep after that, and it was with open arms and happy heart that I got to hold him a few days later when they brought him home. My very own, living doll.

As a toddler, he had to put up with a lot. Imagine two sisters whose favorite game is playing house, who own numerous dolls, and who spend a LOT of time building the house set-up, and THEN playing for hours and hours. Now we had a real doll! Who moved and talked and hugged! But he didn't lie down. He would NOT lie down for his “nap”. Or for bed. We hadn't really expected that. A doll that resisted our directing was something new. So the challenge became getting him to lie down. We built an amazing assortment of “cribs” for him, hoping that something would cause him to want to REALLY play with us. I think he may have consented once or twice. But no worries, by then we'd found something far more interesting to do with (to?) him.

When he got hurt, he'd allow himself to be cuddled and swaddled, and rocked and comforted. So we made sure he got hurt. I'm NOT kidding, unfortunately, and I don't know why my mother didn't stop us, but we'd take turns being the one to hurt him, and then the other got to comfort him. I'm sad to say that we did this, but here at Life is Good, you do get the truth. (I try to respect the privacy of shy family members, but in this one I'm the bad guy, so I figure I'm safe...)(Sorry Swissie, but I'm here under the bus with you...) I don't know why he continued to play with us, but he did. Despite the pinching and indian burns and um, light punches.

He did grow up to be a perfectly normal man. Well, not normal. He's incredibly brilliant, has basically a photographic memory, and excels at whatever sport he chooses. He's generous, and forgiving, and fair. He works in the computer world, and does very, very well.  (And would KILL me if I published the picture of the three of us siblings getting our very first computer.  This was 1983, and it was the Atari 800.  Tape drive.  It's a very prophetic picture because he's grinning like a kid in a, well, computer store and so excited.)  That excitement has taken him far.  He now works for one of the giants.  Pretty sure you have some of their software on you laptop.  He's a security expert.  

I guess you can tell how much I love him. He lives way too far away from Colorado, but he flies me out for “chill weekends” to enjoy his hospitality in Virginia. An added bonus is that he married one of my dearest friends, who is now my sister-in-law! Has made for an interesting dynamic at times...and we'll leave that one there. Ok, one story.

When they first met (I set them up. Ok, I gave him her email...) it was Thanksgiving. She was still a Colorado girl at the time, so when Christmas rolled around, he came to visit her (and me, and our parents). YogaGirl and I have very similar physical features, in height, body type, and hair color. Well, imagine a group of relatives, all hanging out in the same, small house (that was our Old Town bungalow, a whopping 760 square feet.) Imagine lots of frivolity, lots of libations, and lots of good night hugs. So DataBoy wraps me up in a big hug, and plants one on me. We both kinda freaked. “Oh, sorry. You're Tina. Oops.” Yeah, I love you and all, but keep your lips on your girlfriend!

I wish we could spend more time together. But for now it's nice to know he's there, and he loves me, and it won't be too long before we're chillin' again.

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P.S  Doing what I promised, even though I'm sitting here thinking, "There's so much more you could say about him!  This isn't nearly enough!"  JUST.  PUSH.  PUBLISH POST.  Sigh.  It's a learning curve.