I Can't Complain (but sometimes I still do)

In the upcoming month, Kid#3, a boy, is going to pop out of The Wife's womb and bless us with sleepless nights, dirty diapers, and another mouth to feed.

But what has kept me awake this night is the thought that Kid#2, my first son, who can't even form a complete sentence yet, will soon have a baby brother ... hence my seldom participation in my own blog the past 2 years. In fact, my two sons will have the exact difference in age that me and my older brother have, namely 1 and 3/4 years apart. (It's eerie how that worked out, especially since each of our 3 kids, girl, boy, boy, have been unplanned and completely random).

The problem with all of this is that my older brother and I fought since my earliest memories. Supposedly he really took good care of me when I was a toddler and we were watching Saturday morning cartoons together, but I don't have the faintest recollection of that. All I remember is that I wanted to beat my older brother at E V E R Y T H I N G. Grades, sports, popularity, money, college choice ... you name it.

Coincidentally, our father also had a bad relationship with his older brother, and he always wanted better for my brother and I. Nice try, Dad. It certainly didn't work out that way.

So how do I keep the same thing from happening with my two sons?

I thought about calling my brother up and asking him what went wrong, but I wouldn't exactly be endearing myself to him by waking him up after midnight. Not that I've made a habit of endearing myself to him my whole life. And vice versa.