I can’t believe that I was their first home, that these five very large, amazing humans once lived in me. And now, five pieces of my heart live outside my body, which is an extremely vulnerable feeling. But such is motherhood.
I don’t care how old your kids get (or how tiny they make you look); your babies will always be your babies. There’s no getting around it. As long as I’m living, my babies they’ll be, as the book says. (You know what book I’m talking about! 😭)
(Ummm...they are adorable, but I was not big on parting and combing or slicking down my boys' hair for photos. Or on fresh haircuts in general, apparently! LOL)
On Saturday, we were driving back home to VA after a few days in Upstate NY, and we listened to a playlist of our all-time favorite songs for about four hours straight. Three of them were songs my boys had picked for the Mother-Son Dances at their weddings: Garth Brooks’ “Your Song” (son #1); the Backstreet Boys’ “Perfect Fan” (sons # 2, 3, and 4); and Garth Brooks’ “Mom” (son #5).
So, dear readers...Guess whether or not I did a wee bit of weeping in the car when those nostalgia-inducing tunes came on. And guess whether or not hearing those sweet songs prompted me to start putting together this blog post, while we were still on the trip.
Ding, ding, ding! Right you are, yes on both counts!
It’s hard for me to even articulate my feelings for my boys. Any words I come up with will be inadequate. But let me tell you a few of the things I like best about them.
They love God and live their Faith. This is the most important thing, obviously. They have held onto and practice their Catholic Faith, married women who share it, and are passing it on to their children. And they aren’t “Cafeteria Catholics.” In a world that is increasingly secular humanistic and morally corrupt, this is everything to their dad and me.
They’re funny. They make each other laugh. They make me laugh. I love just being around them and listening to their goofy back-and-forth, their deep voices, their infectious laughter. I love when they tease me. (Teasing is a love language, at least in our house.)
They’re kind and loving sons. They speak to us with respect, always. They give the most thoughtful gifts. They appreciate everything we do for them. And they seem to like spending time with their dear old Mom and Dad and having us play an important role in their children's lives.
They’re pro-life family men, and they love being fathers. And what a joy it is to see them in that role! They do it all: bedtimes, baths, diaper changes, cooking, feeding; they're totally hands-on, and have even started coaching some of their kids' youth sports teams. (And from time to time, a boy of ours might come home with a pair of light-up—dare I say tacky?—unicorn sandals that his beloved wife would never purchase, to the absolute delight of his 2-year-old fashionista!)
There is so much more to say, and to truly give our sons their due...well, I would have to write ten long blog posts for each one. Our boys have unique and different personalities; however, they have many traits in common and share a number of interests. They're all extremely intelligent men, responsible, talented, hard-working, interesting to talk to. I know I just sound like a proud mama who looks at her kids through rose-colored glasses, and you can think that if you want to. (How does it feel being wrong, though? Ha ha!)
Suffice it to say that I kind of like my boys. I like them a lot. I love them, of course, unconditionally and with every fiber of my being. But I also really like them. They're my favorites.
(P.S. And they do make me feel tiny. There's that, too.)