Today is National Sibling Day. I'm fortunate enough to have three siblings but I didn't always feel so lucky. Growing up, I was always annoying my older sister by trying to tag along with her and her friends. And my younger sister was always annoying me by trying to tag along with me and my friends. And my little brother, the baby of the family, was adorable and spoiled (sorry, Westy. It's true.)

I love my siblings because we're so different and so alike at the same time. We have history that partners and friends and outsiders can't touch. We know that Nanaimo Bars are as good as currency in our family. We can crack each other up just by saying "you just bought the furniture!" We will never put green peppers or onions in our mac & cheese and we will always put ketchup on our scrambled eggs.

My sisters and brother are my people. They're my memory keepers. My inside joke tellers. My greatest source of support.

I want Grady to have a sibling. I want him to fight with and love another human the way I've only been able to with my siblings.

Last night at the park Grady told a random dad there that he has three brothers. It broke my heart a little bit (after my lady bits unclenched because holy moly, kid, you're writing cheques my uterus can't cash.) I don't think there's anything wrong with having just one kid. I have nothing against only children. I understand and accept that Grady may be an only child. But part of me is sad to think that Grady might not have a little brother or sister to boss around. I think he'd make an awesome big brother and I hope he has the chance one day.