May You Be the Mother of a Hundred Sons

Despite what you might think, that title is not a curse. It's a blessing given to many women in India and the name of a book I read. I won't go into the depressing details of that book (spoiler alert: it's about female infanticide). I always thought I would have daughters. I pictured myself watching Pride & Prejudice with them on the weekends (PBS version of course), shopping, baking sweets together, talking for hours upon hours about who knows what, teaching them feminist ways...you know, all the stuff I did with my mom. Daughters are the best, I would know, I am one. I was afraid to have boys because every once in a while you see one of those little boys that is absolutely wild and I didn't want one of those. The ones that wrestle, throw things, yell loudly, taunt other kids, never stop running around. Then I had Max and he was a perfect angel and I wasn't so nervous about boys anymore. But by 18 months I realized he was everything I ever feared. By 2 I realized he was worse than I feared. He runs wild most of the day. He is one of the loudest people I've ever met. Once he picked up a lamp and threw it at me. It shattered. He picked up a piece of glass to throw that at me but it cut his hand open.  He loves to break and destroy things, he loves to run away in parking lots and tell me he is going to get hit by a car, he loves to throw objects at people, he loves to draw on our newly painted walls, he loves to take the screwdriver and dig holes in our new wood floors, he loves to take his fork and stab the table to make marks on it, he loves to break lamps (mostly by throwing them), he loves to steal candy at the store, he hits other kids, especially his baby brother, he hits me, he just stopped biting people. He can go an entire hour talking straight (I've timed it). He is a bit much sometimes. I don't think he will be interested in watching P&P or talking about his feelings and so far he hates shopping. But I have to say that I have learned to embrace the wild child behavior. He loves life. He's just always looking for a good time. He is happy to be alive, happy to experience new things. I love that the way to get him to sit still is books. I love that he says we are best friends. I love that he asks for family hugs. I love that he wears his Halloween costumes like they are normal clothes. I love that he is crazy. I never thought I would say that but I really love it.

 When I found out Fitz was a boy, I cried. But Fitz is of course a perfect angel. He is simply sweet. He never yells at me, never hits, never breaks things. He just watches all the crazy happening around him and smiles. He always seems to be smiling.

The past few weeks we have made some real progress in brotherly love. Max finally gives Fitz positive attention and lots of love now. Fitz is loving it.