The Almost Empty Nester: Raising Boys

Sunday, August 2, 2015

Raising Boys

Thing 1 and Thing 2 turn 15 today.  And for whatever reason I’m having a much tougher time with them growing up than I have with Girly. Well, maybe just different. 

I went in to my doctor for a checkup when I was 17 weeks pregnant. My doctor told me that based on the size of my tummy, we were off on my date or their was more than one baby. Four days later when the nurse put the ultrasound thingy on my belly and two heads popped up on the screen, we got our answer. I wasn’t off on my due date. After checking each baby over thoroughly, the ultrasound showed we were having twin boys. 

I cried for two weeks.

I grew up with a sister. We were a girly household. Girls I knew. Boys were foreign. Raising them sounded absolutely terrifying. Every night for two weeks I would soak in the tub and cry and pray. Surely God misunderstood the level of gumption I had to handle this particular path for my life. I was flattered He thought so highly of me, but boys? And two boys at once? Didn’t He get my memo? I had one girl already. I was supposed to have one more girl and be done. That was the plan. 

I can say this now and I mean it with my whole heart. I’m so grateful God knows better than me and that He has a fantastic sense of humor. I love all my children equally, but it’s true – there’s a special bond between a mom and her son. Not more special than the bond I have with my daughter, just a different special. 

My husband is uber protective of our daughter. It’s not that I’m not, but I’m a girl. I understand her world. It’s my job to train her to be a woman. I get it. Hubby doesn’t. His job is to be Dad. Protector. Papa Bear. I am uber protective of the boys. Hubby is not. He’s a boy. He gets it. His job is to train them to be men. My job? Mama Bear. 

Am I nervous about Girly going to college next year? Absolutely. Do I worry and pray over that child always? Of course. But the thought of my boys being almost old enough to drive and out in the world on their own makes me want to hug them tight and lock the doors. They’re my boys. My babies. Hubby shakes his head at this (as he should) but lovingly understands I need to be Mama Bear. And as a Mama Bear I am not always rational. I will let them leave the cave one day, of course. I will know then that they are prepared and ready, just as I’m confident in Girly’s preparedness for the world. 

But oh, how my heart is learning to stretch and grow with each new step. These two stole my heart 15 years ago. They have brought our home more humor and excitement than I ever could’ve imagined. God knew… and I am forever grateful. I am a proud and blessed Mama Bear.

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