I don’t freak out when one of my boys comes screaming to me with blood running down his face. These are boys, this is what they do. They are going to get hurt, they are going to play rough and they are going to get dirty.
T2 fractured his leg when he was 1 ½ years old. I watched it occur; he was running down the hall, tripped, and fell on a plastic toy drum with the drumsticks tethered to it. And started crying for Mommy. I comforted him and told him to go play. He didn’t want to walk, but he quit crying. He sat on the floor and played. I thought it was odd, but my mother in law and husband agreed, nothing was wrong. I took to the doctor the next morning and he thought nothing was wrong either. But the x-rays showed something different. Apparently kids bones are so soft, they don’t hurt unless they are actually in use.
I am not squeamish at the sight of spiders, mice, worms, or lizards. The twins love for me to dig worms out of the garden for them, and actually fight over who gets the next one. We catch frogs on the side of the pool. Last summer they were on the hunt for the small garden lizards. T1, my quick and quiet one, was sure to catch one, considering he can catch flies with his bare hands. But it was T2 who finally caught the tail of one, only to pull it off and run to his Daddy squealing because the tail was still moving in his hand. We watched that lizard regrow his tail over the next couple of months. My father, feeling sorry for the twins, caught a lizard for them. I brought him home, along with an aquarium I’d acquired. I knew it wouldn’t last, but they wanted to keep the lizard for a pet, and hey – it’s better than a snake.
For a time, they took care of it. Then one day, one of the twins came running up to me, upset because the lizard was missing. I figured he was hibernating in a nice new home, somewhere outside the hands of 6 year olds. As fall faded into winter, the lizard was forgotten.
This past Saturday, I was sitting on the couch tickling my almost innocent one. Little man doesn’t know what a worm is; he just picks it up like dirt and drops it back down on the ground. T2 was helping me and we were having a laugh fest on the couch. T1 walked up and said “Mommy”, actually he may have said more but as I turned around to face him, 2 inches from my face was the DEAD BODY OF THAT LIZARD. I screamed so loud that T1 dropped it, ON MY LEG. I jumped up and screamed again and again, “GET IT OFF ME.” I was freaking out. My husband walked in the front door, as I tried to escape the living room. T1 asked me what was wrong and I didn’t even know how to respond as my husband was doubled over in hysterics. T2 asked why I was afraid of it and I replied “Mommy is a GIRL! Take that thing outside!” Being boys, the twins agreed with their father that this was the funniest thing they had seen in a long time. T1 proceeds to chase me into our room, where I locked the door, only to have him push it under the door while cackling with laughter.
Eventually my husband convinced him to get rid of it – outdoors.
Yes, Mommy is a girl. I can handle a lot, just not dead lizards.
Footnote: I am grateful to the neighbors who didn’t let T1 bring home the dead black snake that Monday. I am forever doomed now that he knows Mommy doesn’t like dead animals.
What are little boys made of?
Snakes and snails, and puppy dogs tails
That's what little boys are made of!