Last night when I picked up the kids from daycare, both of them were out in the large muscle area. I came through the gate, and BabyA was there, arms up, saying "up, up!" I picked her up and was talking to the director about a bite mark that had materialized on BabyA. We finished up, deciding that somebody got away with one, and I turned to see Son getting into it with another kid over a toy.
The teacher broke it up, and Son came over to me, crying. It was a case of a tired kid, another kid grabbing onto his toy, and the end of the day. ANYWAY, BabyA, who I had put down when I heard the squawking from Son, came over to Son, and wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him the biggest hug. I haven't gotten a true hug from her yet, but yet Son gets one. He sort of ignored her, and just clung to my legs. BabyA, being her usual determined self, was still worried, so she went around him and hugged him from the back. He calmed down, and she felt that everything was OK enough to let go.
It was a show of empathy that I hadn't seen from her before, and made me so happy. It was one of the reasons that we had two children-so that they would have each other, be able to lean on each other, play together. They still have their moments, and I would be surprised if they didn't. However, it was such sweet, pure concern for Son, that motivated her.
I pray that it doesn't change any time soon. Just another reason for me to thank God for having her in my world. Our little family would be less without her.