THE BOY MOM
I got pregnant with twins on the first try. I know. That's nuts and ridiculous. But it's also God's work. Or as my husband said, "God's funny work." And I was scared to death. Twins?!! How? Like, what? I'm confused. But yes, I was indeed pregnant with identical twins. And all I could think was, I hope they are girls. I know girls. I can't have boys. I don't know how to do boys.
And then they were boys. And my husband named them Bo and Luke. And I fell in love. Hard. And I'm obsessed. And I can't stop, won't stop with the love. Ever. Never ever. And here's why.
Boy Moms experience a totally different world than girl moms. It's nothing like girls. Almost like a different kind of love with boys. It's all kinds of different. Like, their pee pee, it's a thing. And it makes them giggle. Like loud. Like it's the funniest thing they've ever seen. And their smiles, you can read boys by their smiles. What they really want. Who they are. Who they're gonna be. What they need. And how much they love mama. Not kidding, it's like, life. Never felt anything like it. Nothin'. And then there is their physicality. It's mind bending. Exhausting. The counter opposite of my then baby girl sitting quietly in her room talking to dolls. Like, I wonder if my toddler boy twins think I'm actually a bounce house. Like made of bouncy material and able to be jumped on every hour on the hour. And that I don't have boobs. And that I won't bruise or get cuts or get pinched by their rubber shoes. They are not aware of this, they just keep bouncing. And they won't sit still. Unless they poop, then it's sitting still in a corner by themselves making a funny half smiling face while their face turns red and they groan. That's when they're still. And that's a lot. Because boys poop a lot. Like it's gross. I don't understand how they poop so much. Like where does it all come from? I can't even imagine the shit show that's about to happen when they actually use a toilet. Gross. It's all gross. But here's the thing... it's also something fiercely beautiful.
Like I can't even handle the beauty of a boy. The way they hug your neck like you are the most stunning, wonderful and amazing mother in the world. The lights go down and they wrap their arms around you tight and rub your neck so they can feel you and know you're there. And know you're real. It's the smile that lights up when you walk into their room at 7 am and they reach for you and hug your neck again. It's inexplicable what it does to a boy mom's heart. And it's inconceivable to me how I ever thought I couldn't "Get boys".
I get them. And they get me. And as they learn to talk and run instead of walk, I see the light that pours out of them ready and willing to try life and go full speed ahead. Even if they fall. Even if they split their head open. Even if it hurts. They go. And they don't stop. And I watch. And I pay attention to the details. And I study them from their toes all the way up to their curly hair follicles on their head. And as they get ready to turn two, I realize I am as full on as them. A boy mom. And I understand the responsibility of a boy. And I foresee so many victories and so many steep falls ahead. And I dread the day a girl breaks their heart. And I hope they know that I'll always be here, I'll always be their mama and there will never be anyone in this world who will love them more. No one. Because them. Because I, am a boy mom. For life.