He loves his brother. Both of them.

I witnessed the most adorable, most frightening thing last night.

Last night, Nicholas didn't want me to put him to bed. Or, more like he didn't want to go to bed. But, once Andrew offered to take him, he was all for it.

Andrew is 5, guys. How can he put the 2-year-old to bed?

So, I sat on the step and watched. I watched as Andrew brushed Nicholas's teeth (which is always a struggle for us). I watched as Andrew helped Niko climb into his crib (which, of course, we're trying to dissuade him from doing). And I watched as Andrew played peek-a-boo with Niko in bed like I do.

It couldn't have been any cuter. Or scarier.

For one, Nicholas would rather someone else put him to bed than Mommy. That's always been my job. We have a routine. We go upstairs, he reads me a book, I sing him a song. I put him into bed, play peek-a-boo with his blankets and he goes down. It's one of two most special times of my day (the other, of course, is putting Andrew to bed - we have a thing, too). I don't like the idea of someone taking my thing away from me. Even if it is my son.

Secondly, I'm sad Andrew is old enough to do something like this. He's a great big brother to Nicholas, which I love and appreciate. I'm slightly troubled at the idea of my boys getting older. Obviously, I knew this would happen someday, I just thought it would be 10-15... 20 years from now.

But, I suppose they can't be young forever. We just registered Andrew for Kindergarten a few weeks ago, so I knew getting older was inevitable. It's time to embrace it.

And squeeze the life out of them every chance I get.

Before they won't let me touch them ever again.