Each time we moved, I had a minor anxiety attack about how our move would affect Everett. I was worried we would disrupt his routine, his sense of normalcy, his safe place. Will he be confused? Will he have a hard time adjusting? Will he be sad?
And every single time we moved, the answer was no. Everett marched right into his new bedroom, marked by the boxes with toys carefully packed inside, and started playing as if nothing had happened.
As soon as he figured out where the toys and snacks were kept, he was home.
When I was pregnant with Carson, I spent a lot of time worrying about how Everett was going to react to his new big brother role. I worried he would be jealous of a new baby, and become needy or whiny. I worried that his wonderful sense of independence would be replaced with a sudden desire for attention. I worried about his attitude, his sense of security, his identity as my former "baby".
And then we came home from the birth center with Carson in tow and it was as if he had been there all along. Everett gave a general nod in his direction, said "hi baby bruhder!" and continued playing with his hot wheels like it was no big deal. He was unfazed. Unchanged. Not disrupted in the slightest.
His interest has been slowly growing. He loves to turn on Carson's swing, and insists on sitting on the bathroom counter when I give Carson a bath. Anytime Carson cries (which is kind of a lot), Everett responds with a quick, "Baby bruhder, it's okay!!!"
I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I keep waiting for it to hit him, this huge life event that just took place while he was sleeping one Saturday morning in October. I keep waiting for a tantrum, a fit, a dramatic scene of some sort. I keep waiting for my two year-old to acknowledge the bigness of this, the drastic nature of what has just happened to our family---we grew by an entire person.
And....nothing. There is nothing. There is just Everett and his hot wheels and his Cheerios and his new balance bike that I found on Craigslist a couple weeks ago. Cruising right along enjoying life just like he always has.
As if there were always four of us. As if this house we've lived in for a few months was always our home.
I will continue to worry about Everett for the rest of my life. Of this, I am sure. I will worry about him when he heads off to preschool and when he drives a car for the first time. I will worry about him when he falls in love and gives his heart to someone else. I know at some point, change will affect him differently than it does today.
But in the meantime, I am going to just sit in awe of this boy of mine, the most adaptable kid on the planet, and continue to watch him take on change like it ain't no thing.