Mothering Sons

I have to say, as much as I adore my little princessy girls, there is nothing like a boy. Wild, headlong, heedless, but at the same time, so tender-hearted and gentle. My son is 100% pure boy (with poison control programmed into my speed dial to prove it!) and yet as rough and tumble as he is, he can melt my heart the way he cuddles his baby sister. Tonight we were at a get-together for Jeff's work to meet some other families with young children. Joey and Jessi were playing in the yard and had quite a collision; it looked like mountain goat kids butting heads, sounded almost that loud too. Joey got the bad end of the deal and ended up with an instant shiner. Jessi bawled a little bit, but she caught it on her forehead so she was ok. I have to admit, I was SO relieved that it was my two kids who got hurt (vs. one of them hurting some other kid!). I also have to admit that I fussed and put on ice etc. simply for show... That thing was swollen up within seconds, ice was doing nothing for Joey (except making him holler) and was only to assuage the concern of the other parents who were ooohing and aaaahing over his injury. In true tough guy fashion, he cried more about the ice than about the actual black eye. Now I suppose I'll lose any hope of Mother of the Year if I confess that I find these pictures to be simply hilarious. The boy is a goofball! I told him to stand still so I could take pictures of his "cool" black eye. You see the results. I finally just grabbed his head and held him. Not that that worked out really well either.

Just in case you are wondering, the slightly greenish lump above that eye is the remains of last week's injury gained through wrestling Daddy or the wall or maybe it was Daddy and the wall, I really lose track of these things. The girls are sweet and adorable but my son... well he's the one that makes me laugh until I cry.