There's plenty of room for Byron

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Byron is such a lovely little fellow. From the moment he opened his eyes his sweet personality was evident. And later, when he learned to smile, we had an even better insight to how deep and sweet he really is. Taking him home from hospital was one of our lives' happiest events.

But of course it is rarely clear what an only child thinks when they become an elder sibling, especially when that child is only 17 months old and talks haltingly in a language the rest of us are yet to learn. We wondered what difference to Georgia's life the arrival of Byron would make. Simone and I had taken for granted that for us it would mean sleepless nights, no social life, a scrape with impoverishment and a joy that fills our hearts. But for Georgia?

We quickly found we needn't have worried. Georgia took to Byron like a girl to an animated doll. She hugged him, kissed him, and gave him some well-intended but none-too-gentle pats. Byron, with the haze of infant eyes, looked lovingly at us all. Who could ask for more?

Four months pass quickly (perhaps less quickly for Simone, who lives not only the days, but also knows the small and lonely hours of the night in the shared company of an unsleeping child), and it is tempting to think we know what sort of person Byron is. However, who can really tell at this stage, but when Simone and I chat, we usually come around to the view that Byron is pretty relaxed, and has a beaut sense of humour. He laughs out loud. His eyes lock-on to what strikes him as funny, and before the audible chortle there's a creasing around his eyes that accompanies his silent smile - its a look of delight.

Georgia, older, worldly and street wise, indulges his company while watching her favourite DVDs. She occasionally holds his hand. Byron, in her presence, is usually focused on this curious person of similar scale. He watches her as if she is instructive as well as comforting.

Individually, like all of us, they try to make sense of the world and fit in, and we love them. Together, they're our kids, and that's a responsibility overshadowed by joy.

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