My boys. I’ve always loved the way that phrase sounds. It gives me a real sense of pride to be the mother of two boys. My own mother had two sisters who gave birth to all girls, & she herself, had four girls &, surprisingly, one boy. My sister’s actually came from my mother’s second marriage, & fate be it, I was the perfect age to babysit the three, watching first-hand as they grew up. I soaked up all of my pre-motherhood skills & hands-on experience done on the girls. Mastered them easily, since I basically raised them as my own children at one time, while our mom was in nursing school. Having two boys back to back was like breaking a family curse, in my grandmother’s eyes. And I didn’t know what to think about that claim to fame resting over my head.
The first time I found out I was pregnant, I was a scared shitless, wild & free 21 year old. All kinds of panic went racing through my head, because the baby would have a penis & I didn’t know about boys. Only girls. How was I supposed to raise something with a penis!? I couldn’t even talk openly about those dangling tree branches, outside of basic anatomical speak with proper medical terminology, without blushing or giggling. Itwas embarrassing for me to hear the sound of such commonly used words, like dick, pecker, or willy come out of my own mouth. Now I was going to become responsible for one until it’s attached-to owner could grow big enough to be responsible for it himself. My mind just couldn’t wrap around that fact throughout the remainder of the pregnancy, no matter how hard I tried to figure out my feelings. How could I make sure this, eh, uhh… this thingy, was taken care of properly when I know nothing about them in the first place? Then I found out about circumcision. Why wasn’t the universe paying attention? Hello up there!?! I only know about girls, I don’t want boys!!!
Thankfully, love at first sight is a really powerful happening, taking over as I gazed into the face of the thing I made. Locking eyes for the very first time, all the concerns I had made over the gender of my child melted away just as the mushy feels of my heart were doing as well. Born exactly one year & one day apart, the 20th & 22nd of September, Tee & The Dunce are not twins, despite what can be assumed upon meeting them for the first time. I don’t like the old adage of Irish Twins that certain relatives refer to them as, because it still implies, with usage of the word twin, that they are mirror images of each other. Which, they are not. Polar opposites they are, contrary to popular belief. They are two unique, separate individuals within the same title of personal reference, The Boys, that I endearingly call them. With others close to us, though, that title is presumptuous in regards to them being one single entity, with the same likes & dislikes, just is far from the case.
Tee came into the world after dark, lighting up the night with his glowing presence. The Dunce came into the world during the light of the midday sun, bringing shade to shelter us from the scorching rays. Tee was a pretty easy going baby, always content staying in one place, exploring within sight of his first love- me, his momma. The Dunce was a serious & wise, old soul of a baby, bored with life & hating to be contained right from the get-go of his first day of life- kicking himself free of every swaddle he was put into within mere seconds. They both bring a whole different end of the line to the table, somehow balancing each other out perfectly. They’ve grown together into a team, Tee the brains, The Dunce the brawn. As toddlers, they began climbing into one another’s beds at night to sleep together. As preschooler’s, they began pushing their beds together to make one big one, which is when I finally went out & bought them their own full sized bed to share. They couldn’t have been more happier that day.
Having The Boys, My Boys, gave me a new purpose in life. They really changed the direction of the path I had been headed down, setting me back on the straight & narrow. When The Hubs came into the picture, after
The Boys sperm donor hit the road, they weren’t even 1 & 2 years old yet. The four of us became a family overnight, & everything seemed to fall into place like a romantic fantasy novel. My family felt complete, just as it was supposed to be all along. There weren’t any more worries or fears over what to do with those little wieners of theirs, I had myself a man in the house who was willing to step up as a father & handle that aspect of raising boys. Content with that, I could sit back & enjoy the ride of being the mother of two rambunctious, adorable, loving boys. They could jump off things, climb too high, roll around in the mud to their little heart’s content, & I only had to relish in sounds of their laughter, never having to worry again about teaching those boys to aim accurately when they pee, how to tuck it away when they zip up their pants, or, worse yet, what’s going to happen to them when puberty sets in. Hallelujah!
I may not have wanted to have boys before Tee & The Dunce came along, but those two boys, my real-life Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum, have changed my heart forever. Before there were ever 6 in my family, we were just a family of four- me, my husband, & My Boys, & back then, I couldn’t have dreamt of wanting anything more.
4 thoughts on “Before We Were 6…. There Were Just 4”
You can feel the love for your family in this piece ❤
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Beautiful. I loved this and I could feel how much you love them. Well done, Louise. 💝
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Thank you Thelma! It’s how I cope when I’m feeling drained. I pour my own heart out to bring me back to where I need to be.
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