Nico and the New Baby Star

The Centre of Everything

Before the baby came, Nico was the centre of bedtime. Now Baby Lila was often the centre of everything. She was the centre of feeding, the centre of washing and especially the centre of noise.

Visitors brought Lila silver stars. They told Nico what a wonderful big sibling he was before asking him to move aside for a photograph.

Nico did not feel wonderful. He felt like a star pushed to the edge of the sky.

Ten Nico Minutes

One evening, Mum set a timer after Lila settled. “These are ten Nico minutes,” she said. “You do not have to help. You do not have to love being the big one. What shall we do?”

They folded one paper star. Nico coloured it orange, his favourite colour, and told Mum that Lila's crying made his head hurt.

“That makes sense,” Mum said. She did not tell him the baby was worth it. She did not ask him to be patient. She listened until the timer chimed.

A Sky With Two Stars

The next night belonged to Dad and Nico. Then Mum and Nico again. Ten minutes was not the whole old bedtime, but it was a place that still had Nico at the centre.

One morning Lila gripped Nico's finger. It was not a thank-you and it was not magic. Babies grip things. Still, Nico let her hold on.

That evening he hung the orange star beside Lila's silver ones—not at the edge, and not in front. There was room in the sky for both.