Something in my gut told me Isabelle was not ready to go to school (even though she already picked out her Toy Day toy and had her shoes on). I looked at the time on my phone. 7:30 a.m. We had a few minutes to spare.
“Do you want to hold Ari for a few minutes?” I asked.
“Yeah!” she said.
She folded her legs like a pretzel, stuck her arms out at ninety-degree angles, and declared, “I’m ready for him.”
I passed Ari to Isabelle, cautioning her to “hold his head.”
“It’s so heavy!” she moaned.
“I know!” I said. “But you still have to support it. Strong arms.” I reminded.
“I can’t hold his head! It’s too heavy,” she whined
“What if I let him sit with you in a different way?”
“Puh-lease!” Isabelle said.
I removed Ari from her lap. Isabelle let out a sigh of relief. “Sit back with your legs out,” I said.
Isabelle complied. Then, I set Ari on her lap so she could wrap her arms around him like a teddy bear.
Ari fell into Isabelle’s body, which forced her to lean against his car seat that was on the floor behind her.
“I love you, Ari,” she declared. “But you’re getting really heavy.”
“He’s a growing boy!” I said.
“You’re a heavy, growing boy, Ari. But I still love you.” She planted a kiss on his head.
“Want me to take your picture?” I asked Isabelle.
“Sure,” she said. And then, in a high-pitched voice, we both said, “Smile, Ari!” at the same time.
Isabelle snuggled her baby brother for a few minutes. After they got their morning snuggles in, I determined it was time for us to hit the road. This time, she seemed ready.