Nineteen years ago today, I found out I was pregnant with my second son. This was a great shock to me as I had lost three children to miscarriage before having my first and was told that having more would be a miracle (yes, I have four children today, but that’s a story for another day). Anyway, July 11, 1994 was an amazing day. I was holding my then seven month old son when the news came that number two was, indeed, on his way.

We were joy filled and wildly excited. We had visions of frick and frack, peanut butter and jelly and thing one and thing two filling our days. And it would be so. The magical day arrived, and Erik was born. He came into the world in just under an hour and has been a joy ever since. This is the story of how he came to be known as Ick instead of Erik as he was christened. It’s a silly story, but one worth sharing.

Let me remind you, dear reader, there are but 16 months between my two sons. Adam was a miracle to me – the greatest gift ever bestowed upon womankind after losing the previous three pregnancies, and his life was that of a king. Everything that young prince wanted, he received. Granted, he was a mere babe, and didn’t know he was playing us, but trust me when I tell you, he was! I was blessed enough to be a stay-at-home-mom so every waking moment was devoted to my dear Adam. I truly believed he would always be my only one – and then the news came. The interloper was on his way. My heart ached at first. Could I love two? Would my relationship with Adam change? What would life with the interloper be like for the bond Adam and I shared? Adult concerns thought by an adult – no thought to the world of the child.

To me, Erik was perfect in every way. A terrific baby, a joy to have in the home, and in awe of his older brother. From the time he was able to focus his eyes, he only had eyes for Adam. They were as different as night and day, but wildly in love just the same. Until that fateful day…

It was mid July; four months after Erik’s birth, and I was in the living room feeding him when Adam – all 20 months of him came trudging down the hall dragging something heavy behind. As any mom of two under two can attest, getting up quickly to determine the cause of the noise was both necessary and difficult. Soon, it became obvious that getting up was not important as Adam and his bundle came into view.

There, standing in the center of my living room was my sweet tow-haired 20 month old with all of his brother’s belongings packed neatly in a suitcase; crocheted hat and green sweater perched on top.

“What,” I innocently asked Adam, “is all of this for?”

Adam trundled forward his burden heavy behind him, and grabbed onto my legs and pulled as he always did when he wanted me to get up. I obliged, baby still attached and feeding, and was escorted to the front door.

“Mama,” Adam said. “Ick go bye-bye now.”

And, that, my friends is how Ick – who is now 18 and Adam who is 19 became the best of friends and the worst of enemies as I answered the only way I could.

“No,” Adam. “Ick will be staying for a very long time.”

Ick and Adam grew up as best friends and the closest of brothers – their escapades will keep this blog in story for days. Come September, Ick will be heading away to college – Adam will be a sophomore – and I have two more miracles at home to continue to raise. This is part of our family lore and Ick will one day be wed to someone with the following phrase, at least if Adam gets his way. “Do you, Ick James Mayer, take thee…”