Boy, oh Boy....

I have two beautiful, bouncy boys. They have this incredible energy about them. They are truly gorgeous and I only hope that one day they will make great husbands and Fathers themselves. In the mean time, it is up to myself and my husband to raise these boys to become the men we want them to be. I've been thinking about this a lot lately, so I made some observations. 

Being a mum of boys, it is not unusual to look out of the kitchen into the lounge or the garden and see your boys picking up any item within reach and using it as a sword or a weapon against each other. That is just daily life. It is also not unusual to think to yourself in the morning, fairly early, how am I going to get through this day without going to A&E? I've already been myself a couple of times, luckily nothing major and mainly to minor injury units.


The first time, Zac decided to wear my Ugg boots and tripped over. His tooth ended up going through his lip. The next time, almost exactly a year on, it was Dylan's turn. This time Dylan whacked his head on the corner of a table. There was a fair amount of blood which panicked me. Last time we went to A&E because Zac missed the sofa he was aiming for as he launched himself off of the coffee table. He fell badly and that was the first broken bone, I worry, of many. I now no longer own a coffee table.

What's it like being a mum of boys? I ask myself, as I contemplate the fact that I could end up with one or two more boys. They're boisterous, bouncy, of course they are beautiful but they are hard work unlike anything else I have ever done. That includes the university dissertation in which I had no clue what I was writing it on. I think it takes something very special, mainly such as wine fuelled evenings to get yourself through being  a mother of boys. I say boys plural, when I just had Zac it was easy peasy, then jealously, siblings and boyish behaviour takes over. 

I find that like grown men, my mini men seem to have bottomless stomachs. I can not count the amount of times I am in and out of the kitchen fetching food and snacks for them, not that they eat unhealthy at all. They are big fans of carrots, cucumbers, fruit and peppers. As well as chocolate and sweets, of course. I just find that they eat and eat. I have a suspicion my food bill each week is going to keep growing. Where do they store it all?! To be fair, with the running, chasing, and general bursts of energy that turn them into little super ninjas, I think it's safe to say that they need the fuel. 

Aside from the fighting and general boisterous boyish behaviour, there is something that astounds me and makes me very happy. Being a mother of boys, I get to witness brotherly love at its worst and best. It is a love I admire, I always have. My two brothers have always had a bond. The admiration from my younger brother to my eldest was always obvious and lovely to watch. Now, I see that all again. This time there are no girls sandwiched in the middle, like my sister and I. This time, at this moment in time, it is just my two boys. My little men. I see them fight, steal toys in the most crafty of ways, ruin each other's Happyland set ups but I also see a brotherly love, a brotherly bond forming and seaming together. I hope, for life. 

They stick together whenever one or the other is in trouble, both glaring at me like I shouldn't dare, then they keep each other company on the naughty step, giggling about their latest thrill. I watch Zac, trying to teach words and how to play with certain toys to Dylan. The smiles on their faces when they play together gives me the most joyous of feelings in my soul. I love when they cuddle and kiss, because I know that when they do that, they seek comfort and love in each other. Brothers. Bound by blood, but brought up with so much love and encouragement to be best friends, because then I know they will always have each other. No matter what. 

When I look to the future though, I feel a mixture of emotions. I feel excited to see them grow up into young men. Playing with their toys, watching them kick footballs around, buying their first console and watching the joy on their face as they meet a girlfriend. I want to let the boys be boys, despite how many broken bits of furniture will pass through my house, or how many tears there will be over toys stolen from each other. But I also feel dread, worry that because they are men, when they fly the nest that they will be so independent and strong that they won't need their Mummy any more, or not in the same way. You see I need my Mum very much still, and my sister and I spend days with her shopping. But I worry that it is different with boys. There won't be those shopping trips, or girly talking sessions. 

I suppose all I can do is make the most of these years when they are Mummy's boys, when they still climb into my bed in the middle of the night to be cuddled, when they fall and graze themselves, cry and come to me for the comfort. In these years that they still need me and I am their number one, I will do my very hardest to teach them and show them in the best way I can how to be the best human possible. Through our marriage, we will show them  how relationships should be respectful of each other and supportive. I will show them they can achieve their dreams, to not be afraid. Then when they don't need me as much, when they are older and mature, I know I would have done my very best. I just hope with all my heart that they remain close. Best friends. And that I can just be there, guiding them and loving them with everything I have, proudly. Being a mother of boys is the hardest but most rewarding and enjoyable thing I have ever done. 


P.S I would love a girl next time though, so I can view point the other side, of course :) 

Are you a Mother of Boys? What's your best part of watching them grow into young men? Leave a comment below, I'd love to hear from you. 
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