And I was terrified.
Not just because I'd been parenting girls for seven years, and it was all I knew, although that was part of it. Much of my trepidation came from being raised with four crazy brothers, all of whom struggled throughout their growing up years. While their stories aren't necessarily mine to tell, watching my four brothers and their dealings with drugs, alcohol and crime, as well as the grief they put my parents through was enough to make me doubt our ability to raise boys and make them productive members of society.
But now, these boys. They are my heart. I can't imagine what I would do without them.
(And really, how lucky am I to have two adorable little boys with blond curls?)
These boys need each other. They are truly best friends.
Of course they bicker, fight, yell at, slug, and tackle each other with regularity.
But at the same time, they can't stand to be away from each other. Yesterday, while Max was at preschool, Ian must have asked "Where's Max?" 75 times. (Seeing as he's not even 2, it always comes out as "Mats." We love it.) And the first thing I heard from Max when I picked him up? "Where's my Ian?"
They're also partners in crime. Beware two boys in the bathroom and a closed door. Give them 60 seconds unsupervised in a bathroom and you'll find a filthy sink, a disgusting toilet, and one or more soaking wet shredded rolls of toilet paper strewn all over every surface of the bathroom.
I love their energy, their curiosity, and their compulsive need to climb, jump, and flop all over anything in sight.
I love watching them be super heroes, (Super Max to the rescue!) and seeing their loves for bikes and all things with wheels.
While I'm not certain that I love the heart attacks that Ian and his fearless nature give me on a daily basis, I love seeing his adventurous nature and his thrill at trying new things.
It also gives us quite a laugh when we see Ian teach his big brother how to get in trouble more efficiently...
I've been choked up more than once watching them truly care for each other- singing to each other, comforting each other, and running to find each other the minute they wake up at ungodly hours.
I can't say that the challenges I'll face with my boys as they grow up don't make me a bit nervous. But I also know that even when they grow up to be stinky, sweaty man-boys, I'll still claim them as my babies.