This morning and much of the afternoon was layered with the sprinkling of soggy snowflakes. Our first snow of the season. Usually I dread this and I'm hateful toward snow and cold and winter, but I don't argue with the rage of pregnancy hormones. This year I'm craving winter. Every snowflake dissolved into water almost instantly after meeting the pavement, but still, it was snow, it was thrilling. My feelings might change when I'm dragging two boys through thick, cakey, snow and my fingers are bitterly numb and my scarf is soggy and half dragging on the ground. But today, why not love it.
This morning was a rough start as we eased our way back into routine after Thanksgiving. Daddy went to work and the boys were, what I described in a very heated moment as, little monsters. But as soon as I said it I remembered the Thanksgiving we just had, and how happy and giddy we were to announce we were having another little boy monster, and I regretted my angry words. These boys are monsters, but they are my monsters, and now we get THREE.
There was teeny tiny twinge in the back of my mind that wondered if anyone would be disappointed that we weren't having a girl. To be fair, there was also a teeny tiny twinge in the back of my mind that wondered if I would be disappointed that we weren't having a girl.
But as soon as Tom shouted the words "it's another boy!" and the room erupted in excitement and everyone was just as giddy as we were I knew I was being ridiculous and that there is nothing disappointing about our boys.
I feel at home with boys. I'm comforted by their boy-ness, their dirty fingernails and bruised shins, and their secret giggling with daddy after I say "that's gross, stop it!" or "not at the dinner table!" I love that they have a secret boy club; full of stickiness, Legos, laughing, shouts of "touchdown!," burping and only saying excuse me if I am sitting close enough to hear, and poking that sometimes turns to shoving, and their love of anything that is faster, bigger, or better.
I love my boys when I stick them in a stiff, collared, button down shirt for Thanksgiving dinner, and they comply, but sticking out of this handsome man shirt is a boy face splitting open with smiles because not even dressing up can keep them off of a trampoline full of bouncing cousins.
I love my dirt diggers and my tree climbers. My bug stompers. I love my boys.
What I really love about my boys is that I can freeze time simply by saying "kiss your mother," and Teebs will stop mid jabbering or mid meltdown and almost robotically place a wet, open mouthed kiss on my face. And for that one second nothing else happens, just a boy kissing his mama, because when mom says "kiss your mother" you kiss your mother.
When I think about our third boy I can't picture his face. I can picture Bub and Teebs and try to morph the two faces together but I really can't picture what this baby will look like. I'm excited for so many things, what will we name our baby, what will he act like, will he by shyer, more reserved, what will his round little face be, will he look like Bub or Teebs. I am so excited. But what I really get thrilled about is picturing our house brimming full of boys. Boys playing, boys bickering, boys taking just one frozen second to kiss their mama, boys being best friends. I never knew what I really wanted in life was a house brimming full of boys, but now that I have it I can't think of any better blessing.
Read more from Jessica at bubandteebs.com