This was their first day of school this year. The Captain was loaded up and ready to go early. The Blitz would not even look at the camera.
I long ago gave up the dream of being the mother of boys. Both of our first two adoptions were “supposed” to be boys but they turned out to be girls. We were thrilled of course, not actually caring about gender, but as the girls grew and that “baby” phase of life slipped further away, I closed that chapter.
Fast forward a dozen years and we made a decision to foster. By then we were so entrenched in “daughter land” that it didn’t even occur to us that we might foster some boys! In fact, we’ve fostered mostly boys, with only three girls gracing our home, one of whom stayed. Our very first foster child was a boy: a spitfire toddler named Ryan. He was so much fun and so lively; he ran everywhere he went.
When these two darlings and their sister (Tinker) entered our lives, we were back in the swing of boys.
They’ve been here 3-1/2 years now, and I am still enjoying their boy-ness. I love that balls, hoops, bats and helmets hold so much fascination for them. Give a boy a ball and he does not need any other toys. I love their penchant for building things, their sportiness, and their fierce love for me. (Now, don’t get up in arms, I adore all three of my daughters! But this is a post about the fellas.)
I have a friend with 3 teen boys and she keeps cautioning me about how hard it will be. I’m sure it will have challenges, but to be fair, she doesn’t have any teen daughters!
My boys are dog lovers, truck lovers, garbage truck lovers, excavator lovers – you name it! They are thrilled to see a fire truck, a solidier, or a police officer; they spend half their time playing “super-hero.” They think burping is hysterical, and they adore silly jokes. They will do anything to get a laugh. They are rough and tumble yet tender and loving at the same time.. They are the defender of their “middle” sister and one another’s best friends. Gotta love the boys.