My daughter Haley owns three pairs of gloves; her favorites are white satin. She wears them around the house, while sweeping the floors, putting her baby dolls to bed and dancing. When she twirls in circles, I twirl beside her (though mainly I fake turn because twirling makes me dizzy). While she sweeps the floor, I clean the counters.
I know that she loves her blue hair bows best and
But my sons defeat me.
At fifteen months old, I can’t influence the twins’ behavior in the slightest. I cannot guilt, cajole, bribe, or kiss any particular reaction from them. They live in their world, just the two of them and while they welcome visitors, no one may take command, but each other.
The twins have no particular favorite toy or activity. An object they cherish one minute, they brake the next. Even though they can say four different words, the twins choose to mainly speak to each other in gurgles. Hayden and Holden both raise their little arms up over their heads asking me to hold them, but the moment I pick them up, they throw the full force of their bodies backward as if trying to somersault back to the floor. So, I set them down. Which angers them to the point of screaming, and rolling onto their backs wailing with little arms raised in the air, asking me to hold them yet again. It’s a never-ending cycle. It exhausts me.
When Haley was their age, she was learning to share and would giggle as she gave her toys away to anyone nearby. Not the boys, they follow Haley around stealing everything she touches. Today Haley physically drug Holden halfway across the living room floor because he wouldn’t let go of her pink bracelet. When she finally dropped the bracelet in defeat, Holden froze, looked at it, and then crawled away, leaving it untouched.
It’s almost like they want to be jerks. I mean is that possible? Is this just boys?
They scream, throw their heads against the tile, attempt to break everything they touch and laugh when I try to teach them the word No. They bite, kick and favor hitting me in the face with a toy to kissing me. What am I supposed to do with that?
Last night I went to bed with a pulled neck muscle, a puffy lip and a scratch down my cheek. It was a Tuesday.
They stand all of 30 inches tall. And yet, I’m not entirely sure I will survive them. How do people raise these little-spirited creatures?
In those rare moments, when they toddle over side-by-side and hug my legs, my heart melts. I feel refreshed and reminded that they are, after all, simply sweet babies. I stop and bend down enjoying the smell of their sweaty boy hair and then I plant a kiss upon each nose. And not once, but twice, do I get bit in the chin.
Being a mother of boys is for people who love extreme sports, there is always fear, pain, excitement, panic, and bruises. So many bruises. The only sport I enjoy is running – solo. I was not built for boys. I was made for tea parties and plastic high heel shoes. But, God gave me twin sons. And now He laughs as I flush out my eye because somehow my small child has managed to get his poop in my eye (wondering how that occurred? Ya, so am I).
I may not have been built for boys, but I do know that they were made for me. For my love, and my undying willingness to smother them with affection and mothering. And though I’m not entirely sure how to raise these wild little boys, until I figure it out, I’ll stock up on Neosporin and Motrin because I do not intend ever to stop kissing their little noses.
HahahahahHAHAaaa! This brings back many many memories. I’ll send you the video of me trying to kiss George on his first birthday. And I’d tell you it gets better and that they’ll grow out of being so rough….. but then I’ll tell you the story about how just a few years ago George (again!) absolutely TOOK ME OUT when I was trying to help at soccer practice. And, that was when he wasn’t even bigger than me like he is now. Yes to Motrin and Neosporin. Don’t forget your own ice pack. And pro tip: get your kisses and sniffs in while they are sleeping.