Monday 23 April 2018

Little boys


I am a mom of little boys.

When I was pregnant with the twins, I was convinced they were a boy and a girl.  We didn't find out ahead of time what their gender was.  From what we could tell from the outside, they seemed so different - heart rates, movements, size and shape.  We even tried the old wives' tales, which was tricky with twins, but I swear with the ring test, one side of my belly responded differently than the other side!  So we just planned for one of each.  Turns out, we were wrong.  And now I am a mom of two boys.

I have to say that I am thrilled to have boys.  For as long as I can remember, I have LOVED little boys.  From the time I was little, my first neighbourhood friends were little boys and I remember collecting ants and playing in the dirt with them.  When I was in youth group and helped with the little kids groups, I always had a soft spot in my heart for little boys. There is just this wild, sweet, rough exploring side of boys that I have always loved.

Now I get to live with boyhood all around me.  It's not exactly what I expected.  It's not just muddy and aggressive and all about cars (though it was when they were little).  It's fast moving, and messy,  and competitive, and full of sound effects, and many sweet moments of snuggles and kisses.

Take the other day for example: We had a no agenda, no plans day at home.  By 7:30am they were convinced we HAD to make rockets.  We gathered supplies, built cardboard rockets and they were painting them.  While they dried I went out to work in the garden and they collected bugs and jumped on the trampoline.  We stopped for a snack/coffee break and watched the Snowbirds fly overhead.  They wouldn't sit to color but we spent a few minutes (max) using chalkboard paint outside.  Lunch, quiet time (which also only lasted a short time) and then it was time to head to the park.  They rode their bikes there, threw frisbees, played ball, rode bikes home, and stopped to climb on rocks.  At home I tried to get them to stay still for a few moments and lie in bed for a cuddle, and they crawled all over and made funny noises. I made dinner while they ran around with cars and blasted me with shooters from their airplanes.  They ate quickly, wiggling around the whole time, splashed in the bathtub making a mess all over, squealed and run around in their PJs, and finally tucked into bed for snuggles and lullabies.

No wonder when the day is done, I am wiped.  Emotionally, physically, mentally drained!  But when those little voices at the end of the day, whisper sweet nothings like, "I'll meet you in my dreams" and "When I grow up mom, can I marry you?  I love you so much" my heart melts and I am filled anew to take it all on for another day.  They are busy. They are loud.  They are messy.  They are sweet.  They are caring.  They are funny.  They are full of life.  Little boys.



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