Sibling. Love.

Two weeks ago, I would have spun some glowy tale of sunshine and blown it quite squarely up the internet’s whazoo.

But c’mon, mamas.

Two weeks have full-on happened.

And when I say happened, I mean we are literally warring for our sanity.

You can see it.

At Walmart. At Target. At the blessed stop sign.

The hand gestures. The straightened posture. The slightly wild look in the eye.

All coming together to fight the age-old battle of be-nice-to-your-brother-or-sister.

Sure, some of you may deny it.

But we see you.

Driving out of the parking lot after dropping your kids off at anything-that-gets-them-the-hoot-away-from-each-other looking slightly giddy as you head to magical places like the post office, gearing up to return to the inevitable litany of phrases that will begin the moment the van door opens…

“He’s staring-licking-farting-shouting-spitting at me.”

“I’m pretty sure Jesus doesn’t love you.”

“You have murdered my masterpiece.” (AKA popsicle sticks on a piece of construction paper.)

And our favorite from the past week…

“Yo. Kid. Stop breathing my air.”

Well then...

Yep, sibling love.

Most days, it feels like an uphill battle that isn’t worth the sanity it takes.

But two weeks ago…

Two weeks ago, I saw the other side of the fight.

I caught a glimpse into why all of the screaming and the shouting and the full-on sibling smackdowns will someday be worth all the effort we give them.

Because two weeks ago, I sat on the lawn of the University of Virginia huddled in the rain with my sisters to watch my baby bro receive his master’s degree. In many ways, I suppose I could see how you might not find that so remarkable. Except for the way that it is...

With his graduation being the first big “thing” without my dad here to celebrate him.

So we rallied.

We left babies and jobs and all the things because that’s what you do when you’ve loved someone your whole life.

And get this, mamas...when I say love, I actually mean love.

One that is an I’m-never-giving-up-on-you-because-you’ve-never-given-up-on-me kind of love. One that shows up in places others may not have the courage to go---willing to share in the most beautiful hellos or hold each other in the hardest goodbyes. One that laughs and laughs and laughs---even when it’s hard---okay, especially when it's hard.

All because someone (thanks, mom) lost a little bit of sanity a few moons ago, we've been given a quirky blend of never-ending friendship and complete, unconditional love.

So keep up the fight, mamas.

Keep trying. Keep talking. Keep caring.

Because when you do, you are actually giving them one of the greatest gifts of their lives…

A love that is SO worth the fight.