Surviving the First Day
Was it over?
Whenever I saw brothers who didn’t get along, it always seemed like the older one found the younger a nuisance. Right now, though, the situation was the exact opposite. Luca’s wariness of his newly appeared older brother—afraid the boy might steal his place, his things—was written plain across his face.
At least Reni seemed fond of Luca, and he appeared to possess a naturally broad understanding; that was a relief. If Reni had shown no interest at all, or if he had been more sensitive than he already was, things would have been far harder.
Still, I couldn’t just lean on a child’s gentle nature and do nothing as a parent. At this rate Reni might close his heart to Luca, and Luca might keep stressing himself out by resenting his brother.
A soft-spoken, slightly introverted firstborn, and a second who was still going through a stranger-shy phase yet clearly looked destined to be strong-willed and outgoing—how was I supposed to parent between the two of them so they would grow up cherishing and relying on each other? I had no choice but to worry a great deal.
So whenever I found a spare moment I searched the internet, and I also sought advice from Maria, who was raising siblings of her own.
Good heavens, a beginner dad with two sons. Jun, you really are brave.
Maria’s disbelieving voice still rang in my ears like an auditory hallucination. Yet true to her role as both a life senior and a parenting senior, she had given me advice that would truly nourish me.
When I begged her for help and asked what to do if the children fought, she told me that children simply grow by fighting, and that I shouldn’t worry too much.
Rather than trying to mediate every time, sometimes the better way is to leave them to work it out themselves.
And the heart of Maria’s counsel was this:
Make sure both children feel they are loved no matter what.
It might have sounded obvious, yet I carved it into my chest once more. Following the advice of fellow parents online who said that cooperative play was the way to deepen brotherly affection, I prepared games with real care.
I did everything I could so that the children’s first day together would flow smoothly. And so far, it seemed to be going well.
“Here, Luca… look at this?”
“……Mm.”
“Like this, like this—you stand them up. And then…”
Reni was definitely bright. While we were playing a makeshift bowling game, he brought the blocks he had been setting up as pins over in front of Luca, lined them up like dominos, and toppled them the same way.
“……Kyaaah!”
And the baby who was only eight months old was utterly enchanted. Reni, excited himself, clapped his hands and set the blocks up again, this time letting Luca knock the dominos down.
“Kyaaah!”
“Ahaha.”
…As expected, an eight-month life really did fit in the palm of a fifty-month life.
While the children—or more precisely, while Luca—were absorbed in the game, I slipped quietly out of the playroom and started preparing dinner. By my reckoning I managed nearly ten whole minutes alone in the kitchen. I was deeply moved.
“……Waaah!”
That was unmistakably a cry looking for me.
“Yeah, Daddy’s right here!”
I set down the tasting spoon and dashed into the playroom.
“Did my boys have fun?”
“Yes!”
“……Mm.”
Reni answered brightly; Luca answered while staring at me with a resentful look. Don’t look at me like that—I was making your dinner.
“Then let’s eat!”
I scooped both Luca and Reni up in my arms, carried them to the kitchen, and settled each into his high chair. Luca had no food allergies, and I had been told the same of Reni, so being able to prepare one meal for both was convenient in its own way. As I fed them I found myself thinking how nice it would be once they were older and I could cook my own portion at the same time.
Even when I spoon-fed Luca bite by bite, Reni already knew how to handle a spoon—and he did it rather well. He spilled a little, but not overturning the bowl already felt like a victory.
“Our Reni is really good with a spoon.”
“Heehee.”
How hard Alicia and Kyle must have worked to raise him this far.
The moment I looked away at Reni for even a second, Luca seized my hand and yanked the food into his own mouth. Why, then, did he throw the spoon whenever I tried to put it in his hand himself?
I wondered privately whether our Luca would one day try to use a spoon just like his older brother, and continued feeding the baby.
After a few spoonfuls, though, Reni set his spoon down.
“I’m full.”
“Hm?”
More than half the food still remained on Reni’s plate. I had portioned it according to the four-year-old serving sizes I had seen online. Rather than scold him, I decided it would be better simply to keep watching for now, and let it pass.
…And then Luca ate the leftovers. Lately it seemed his appetite had grown quite a bit.
The little bath tub Luca had been using alone had already begun to feel cramped, and of course it was nowhere near big enough for two children. So I filled the actual bathtub and put them both in.
“Aaa!”
If Luca could speak, the babble would have translated roughly as “Amazing!” Reni seemed to be enjoying himself as well, splashing the water with both hands.
I fitted them with shampoo caps so soap wouldn’t get in their eyes, then washed Reni’s hair first. Reni waited quietly until the shampooing was finished, looking content. How could a child be so gentle, so well-behaved, and so clever?
Our Luca, on the other hand…
“Kyaaang! Kyaa…!”
Splash!
“…….”
I wiped away the water Luca had vigorously kicked into my eyes. Was the difference between the two brothers simply a matter of personality, or the gap between eight months and fifty months—or even the difference between eating a lot and eating little? I couldn’t help wondering.
In any case, contrary to my worries we finished the bath without incident. After drying their bodies and hair I put diapers on them first. For reference, Reni still needed a nighttime training diaper. Diaper costs were about to go up, too.
Luca made no distinction between sleepwear and day clothes, but for Reni I had prepared separate pajamas. When I dressed him in the soft fabric, Reni smiled and said,
“Lots of new clothes today.”
“Do you like them?”
The little head nodding up and down was adorable, and just as heartbreaking. Kyle and Alicia would not have failed to buy him clothes, but since Kyle had left the world before Luca was even born, Reni had spent nearly a year not merely without new clothes but almost neglected.
At Luca’s upcoming regular checkup I would have Reni examined as well, and I ought to take Reni to the dentist too. …Hospital bills were going to double.
“All right, time for bed!”
I set both children on the bed; Reni found his own spot by himself, while Luca reached for me again.
“Uwaa.”
He wanted to be held and rocked to sleep. I hadn’t expected him to settle into place on his own the way Reni had…
“Our Luca, not tonight.”
I lifted the baby and placed him in his own spot. Luca looked up at me with what had to be his nth sulky face of the day. Just as I was blanking out over how to soothe him to sleep, Reni stared straight at me and suddenly asked,
“When does Mom go?”
“Hm?”
“Do I go to Mom?”
Ah… Reni spoke well, but whenever his heart grew urgent his words would stumble. He must simply have thought of his mother all of a sudden.
I had already explained it once, yet I told the child again about the pattern our lives would follow from now on.
“Mom is on the weekends. From now on Reni will live here with Daddy and Luca on weekdays, and on weekends you’ll go to the church and stay with Mom, the Father, and Sister Greta.”
Reni listened quietly, then asked about a word he didn’t know.
“……Weekdays?”
“Mm. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday—five days.”
I already knew that a four-year-old Reni still had no clear concept of the days of the week. Sister Greta had said that when Reni announced “Today is Sunday,” he only understood that there would be Mass that day.
I broke it down so the child could grasp it more easily.
“After you sleep five nights you’ll go back to the church to see Mom, and after you sleep two nights at the church you’ll come back here.”
“……Mm.”
I stroked the slightly drooping head once. …It would take time to adjust at first, of course.
While I was wondering how to lift the child’s spirits, the idea of playing the guitar—both to put the boys to sleep and to cheer them up—came to me.
“Boys, wait just a second.”
The moment I stepped into the living room for the guitar, Luca called after me in panic.
“Eung-ah!”
“Luca, Daddy said to wait a little.”
That’s right, good job, our Reni. Of course, it was of little use against the current Luca.
“Aaa!”
“Yeah, Daddy’s back. I brought the guitar.”
When I held the instrument up for him to see, Luca looked at me with a wronged expression. And the faint irritation mixed into that look… was not my imagination.
This little guy was starting to show more and more of his temper as he grew. Or maybe I had simply spoiled him too much…
But he was only eight months old; wasn’t it still too early for discipline?
I let out a quiet sigh, sat on the edge of the bed, and began a gentle performance.
“Wow.”
Reni hugged a cushion, leaned sideways, and watched me while he listened. His eyes sparkled; he might like music too. I could teach Reni music before Luca.
Luca, on the other hand—whether from conditioned learning—grew sleepy-eyed the moment the guitar started. Yet he stubbornly remained sitting and stared at me with a sullen face.
He was so cute I could hardly stand it, and so small. But my son, this father has lived well past three hundred months. I can’t lose to an eight-month-old every single time.
Ignoring the child’s eye-beam attack, I continued playing. Before long Reni was breathing softly, cushion hugged tight, and Luca finally surrendered, folding his body in half while still sitting and burying his face in both hands as he fell asleep. How could anyone sleep in such an uncomfortable position?
Even so, I played one short piece more to make certain they were deeply under, then put the guitar away and laid Luca properly on his back.
I brushed a finger across the warm cheek of the baby whose mouth had fallen slightly open. It was toasty.
“You worked hard today, my little one.”
I left Reni as he was, afraid any movement might wake him.
Now I had to hurry and clean up, then wash myself.
I quieted my footsteps, slipped out, and closed the door. Then I looked at the scene before me and let out a long, hollow laugh.
The piled-up dishes were doubled. The laundry scattered everywhere was doubled. From now on the grocery bill would double, hospital costs would double; almost everything I bought would have to be bought in pairs, and anything I made would have to be made twice.
While my head slowly traced out an everyday life that was going to be at least twice as hard from now on, my body moved quickly, putting the house in order. Mechanically I tidied the living room, ran the dishwasher, started the washing machine, and dashed into the bathroom for a shower.
After loosening my body under the hot steam I quietly opened the bedroom door and checked on the children, who were still sleeping soundly. Reni was still curled up exactly as before; Luca…
I had definitely laid him straight, yet his body was now sprawled out in a big X and rotated a full forty-five degrees.
I carefully climbed onto the bed, stretched out without making a sound of pain, then let my arms and legs flop down with a long sigh.
“…….”
…Did I do it? Me.
Really—had I safely made it through the first day?