Mothers of Boys

I love my girls....I love dainty and pink and twirls and rainbows and baby dolls....I love all things girls..

But I tell you there is something about my boys that just melt my heart.

Nothing I have done have made them the way they are....their sisters are all girly...my boys are all boys

My girls never store things in their pockets....

My boys have collections of things that you make you giggle.

My girls never slide on the carpet as if it was a ballgame

My boys slide as if they are sliding to home plate for the win

My boys will run in the mud with the dog

My girls will shout "mud mud mud"

My boys dirt will throw it in the air as if it's rain

My girls will shout "I'm dirty I'm dirty"

My boys will take sticks, golf clubs, wooden spoons, drum sticks you name it and it becomes swords.

My boys will take their hot wheels and drive them on my leg as a road

My boys will drive the plastic lawn mower as if it is the vacuum or a race car driver chasing the bad guys

Bugs

Bugs

Bugs

What is it about bugs?  My boys will squat right next to a spider, roly poly, or worm and study it...even poke it

My girls run screaming from a room.

My boys spit ....they love to spit....and they love to spit whatever liquid they are drinking.  If it dribbles down their clothes?  Even better.

My girls?  So much of a drop of water hits their dresses or skirt they are in hysterics.  I think my girls change clothes 3 times a day.....my boys?  Would wear the same dirt covered, spit on, worm smeared shirt to sleep in if I let them.

Balls?  Any object can be a ball.  Just ask Reid.  

Trucks?  The cooler the better.  Reid can spot a truck miles away.  It's like the world stops and the truck is all he can see.  My girls could careless about a truck or fast car.

I love watching my little girls play babies....I get them.  I get the cuddle...swaddle....feed...burp side of the girls...

But my boys fascinate me.  I can sit for hours watching how their little minds work.  The adventure they can find in the smallest things.  My boys have taught me to stop and see not just the bottle of water...but the ray gun that shoots liquid lasers.  Or to not see the spoon isn't for eating cereal, but a huge shovel for digging a hole to hideout in.

Boys!

My boys!  

My boys who are growing into little men....

Who want to hammer on things...and build things with their hands.  Who want to have tool bags and workshops just like dad

Who watch daddy hug and kiss me and run over and do the same thing

Boys!  

There's just something about my boys!