I am a mom. Not just a mom, but a mom of boys. In my life, this has been my biggest identifier, my grandest accomplishment, my greatest sense of pride. Oftentimes, when I tell someone I have two boys, I get the sense that they think I should be disappointed, like I am missing out on having a girl. I get the question, “Are you going to try for a girl?” I automatically feel the need to reassure them that I got exactly what I wanted, I wanted boys (cue look of surprise and shock).
Before children, when I imagined myself as a mom, I envisioned sports equipment in the back of the car, cheering at their games, and watching them roughhouse with each other in the living room. In my dreams, I never once saw a little girl, it was always boys. I don’t know what it’s like to be a mom of girls, I’m sure it’s incredible, but I can tell you what my life with boys has been like so far.
Rough and tumble craziness on the playground with scratches and boo boos that need magic dust and kisses, tough guy behavior around friends combined with snuggle talks at night (“just one more minute Momma, please!”), brother playtime that leads to large amounts of giggles and sometimes a few tears from bear hugs gone wrong. With my boys, I get a secret side that most others don’t get to see, the soft and cuddly, loving and nurturing side that usually only comes out during quiet times. I love this secret side that is saved just for me.
I also love the camaraderie between moms of boys, the ability to talk about how batshit crazy our boys can be without feeling the need to say how much we love them and how we know that they are good kids. Boys play hard, love hard, and feel intense emotions, and at times it all comes bubbling out. Boys are crazy, wild, hyper risk-takers, but they are also funny, endearing, loving, and nurturing sweethearts.
When my little guy runs to me out of nowhere and nearly knocks me over with a huge hug, it is just the best feeling in the world. And I hold onto that feeling, because a split second later he’s running off to climb up the slide and jump off the ladder, and I quickly move on to the feeling of fear that he will get hurt and the urge to tell him to be careful.
Before going to bed at night, when I peak into my boys’ rooms to make sure they are sleeping well, I thank my lucky stars for them. I forget about the scraped knees, the outbursts where toys are thrown, the fights over teeth brushing, and I just look at their peaceful faces and take it all in. Because one day very soon (sooner than I can ever imagine) my boys will be all grown up and living their own independent lives.
My hope for them is that they will be truly happy, that they will love who they are and what they are doing, that they find peace in this world and do everything they can to be part of that peace. To my boys: I love you. I love you for who you are, I love you for who you will be. I am so incredibly proud and thankful to be your mom.