Guest Post by Alasdair Docherty

Hi. My name is Alasdair, but you can call me Ally. I'm most used to that.

I'm one and a half years old and until a couple of weeks ago I was the youngest of a family of seven. It was quite a privileged position: never a shortage of attention or doting. In a family this size, you have to find your niche early - something that makes you stand out in the crowd. My niche is being an adorable stud muffin. I have huge eyes, which really draw people in, and then a killer smile to finish them off. I love being funny and silly and get away with all sorts of ills by smiling my way out of trouble.

In my family there is always a pair or arms to hold me and a set of eyes to watch me and give me attention. I did really well as the baby of the family. I had the role down. I was rocking it. They teach me all sorts of tricks and I love to perform them and watch them all swoon and ooh and ahh at me. One such trick they taught me in recent months was to lift Mummy's shirt and point to her tummy when they would say the words, "Where's baby Chicken?". I never quite understood what it was all about, but it seemed to be another way to prove how cute I am and it further established me in my role.

I was a little confused when Mum cried a couple times, snuggling me and apologizing, something about how my role was going to change and I had no idea, and I wouldn't be a baby anymore? I didn't understand, but she seemed pretty cut up about it. She can get that way sometimes though. Geez, mums can be such hard work sometimes.

Then a couple weeks ago the weirdest thing happened...Mummy was in a pool in her room making all sorts of weird noises and I was busy imitating her in the living room and making everyone laugh and swoon when Daddy came running through asking us to come in if we wanted to see the baby being born. I didn't understand but since the siblings ran through I decided to play it cool and follow them as if I knew what was going on. I looked at Mummy in the water and was amazed to see a baby come out! A real, actual baby! A girl. Apparently she is called Chicken too, but Mummy's tummy isn't called Chicken anymore (these people can be so fickle sometimes).

It seems that this baby is here to stay - she's a part of our family now and will live with us forever and ever. So anyway, maybe this is what Mummy meant about my role changing, but I still don't understand why she cried about it. I think this is the best thing ever! I get to be a big brother! I never got the chance to practice being nurturing before, but now I get to do it all day - and as it turns out, I'm freaking awesome at it!

I started practicing with baby dolls. I was never interested in them before, but now I carry them around all day and wrap them in blankets and change their diapers. It's good practice and helps satisfy the urge to hug a baby when my real baby is busy drinking milk or something.

I heard Mummy telling people she was worried I might get jealous. OK, I must lay down my pride and admit it...I am a little jealous. I mean...she's always holding the baby, and I only get to hold her occasionally. It seems a little unfair. But I make sure to get a baby fix as soon as Mummy sets her down.

I absolutely shower her with kisses. I can't keep my hands off her.

She's sooo sweet and cuddly. I love to just watch her. I say, "baby" more than any other word these days. Except for maybe "kissy" (which means I want to kiss the baby), which I say a lot too.  I guess you could call me obsessed. I'm not ashamed.

Sometimes I try to take her out of Mum's arms so I can hold her instead. Mum doesn't appreciate it and says something about Mama Bear, bla bla bla. But doesn't she realize how much my baby sister needs me? What would she do without her big brother to put her hat back on or tickle her feet?

I think she's simply the best thing that ever happened. I love her to pieces and am so happy to be a big brother. And I'm pretty darn awesome at it. 

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