Every time I go out in public with my boys, I hear, “Two boys? Looks like you’ve got your hands full!” And usually that is accurate– both literally and figuratively. Literally because I am generally carrying Reese in one arm and a bag full of toy trucks and goldfish on the other while holding Cole’s hand. Reese needs to be carried because that little boy is fearless, and he will run away if he gets the chance. So I don’t give him the chance.
I love having my hands full. I love playing outside. The energy and the messiness that goes along with being a mother of little boys just brings me such joy. You see, I was a tomboy growing up, and climbing trees and playing outside are things that were always second nature to me. So getting to raise my boys in the beautiful south where we have access to all of this nature is pretty special. These warm February days are being spent running through the woods and riding up and down the river until we find the perfect sandbar. When we get there, we look for deer tracks. We skip rocks. We climb trees. And we collect sticks. We do all of the boy things. The muddier, the better.
Boys are gross. They burp a lot. They can’t be trusted around toilets. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand a boy’s fascination with a toilet. And they’re messy. No matter how often it’s cleaned, the inside of my car looks like a box of Cheerios exploded; and if you look in a cup holder on any given day, you’re bound to find a race car or a firetruck. The wood floors in my house are consistently dirty, and there’s always a giant pile of laundry waiting for me at the end of the day. Seriously, the amount of times I change their outfits in a day is becoming a little excessive. But they’re just magnets for pizza sauce, peanut butter, and any other stains you can think of.
Boys are noisy. The inside voice is not a skill that we’ve acquired yet. If one of them is talking, the other talks louder. And they like to have competitions to see who can make the loudest sound by banging things against the table. Dropping things on the floor– or throwing them– is another one of their favorite games. So is stomping through the house making animal noises. And opening and closing doors. I am amazed by the seemingly never-ending stores of energy.
Boys are sweet. The second I walk in the door from being away from these guys for any amount of time, they both come running. The hugs and kisses I get are like nothing else in the world. And even though they’re at the ages where they no longer want to snuggle all the time, when they do snuggle, man is it good. The first time I heard big brother say, “I love you, mommy,” my heart just melted. Because there is nothing like the way a little boy loves his momma.
One day I would be thrilled to have a little girl in this family. But for now, I am really enjoying being totally outnumbered. I am the queen of this castle, and they all know it. Being a boy mom is such a privilege– and I thank God every day for entrusting these little blessings to me.
Colton Brooks, Reese Wilder, and James Daly, Mommy loves you.