My thoughts about this article began when I witnessed my rambunctious two-year-old running around in just a diaper through our living room, wearing a heartwarming but sneaky grin. With a playful laugh, he stuck his LEGOS into the perfectly lit Christmas tree my husband and I just put up – the tree skirt carefully placed beneath and our delicate ornaments just hung.
I asked, “Greyson, do you REALLY prefer a LEGO tree over the pretty Christmas tree?”
He responded, “YES!”, obviously thrilled with his decision to turn my perfect dream of a white Christmas tree into one of plastic and color.
At that very moment I realized that not one person could convince me otherwise that I needed my “perfect” Christmas tree this year – I had the most perfect one right in front of me…orange and blue plastic, and all.
When my husband and I first started talking about kids, I told him my desire to have a daughter. So, when we found out we were expecting not one…but TWO babies at once, I thought it would be just my luck to have two boys. After all, my husband’s family is one of much testosterone.
Now please do not get me wrong, and do not be offended – I absolutely love all children, especially boys, but I so badly wanted a sweet girl to love on.
Our gender reveal party revealed to us and dozens of our loved ones that we were expecting one of each, and my heart exploded with gratefulness and excitement. Fast forward five months when we were in the delivery room, anxiously awaiting to meet our twins when I so quickly realized what I never knew I always wanted.
A son.
Oh my goodness: his perfectly placed dimples, his wide eyes, and how he felt so content being swaddled and snuggled up with his Mommy and Daddy.
In his two years of life, I have learned to appreciate and look forward to:
Noisy toy trucks…Muddy boots…The sound of race cars taking over our evening television routine…The laughter of stinky farts…Sticky fingers pulling me in to cuddle…Outdoor adventures complete with SO MANY bugs…
And most recently, our perfect LEGO tree.
To those who are boymoms, wear this beautiful badge with honor. After all, we run on coffee and chaos, and truly, would we want it any other way?
