"Boys will be boys", I seem to be saying that a lot lately. It's a pitiful cliche, a stereotype and overused just as much as "girls are different"; but today, right now, at this moment, it couldn't be more true. I always say that my boys are so different. They were different as infants, toddlers and now as boys.
Wyatt was different than his brother not only because of his size (3.3 pounds bigger) but his temperament. He was one of those "rock and bounce and don't you dare sit down" types. He was a good baby too. He slept well in his own room from the beginning because he quickly ourgrew his bassinet. He gained independence from me sooner than his brother in the areas of walking, talking and breastfeeding, but relied on me more in the emotional department. People always assumed he was older than his age, and often (when riding in the double stroller) the boys were mistaken for twins. He remains close to both myself and my husband, and doesn't like to be away from us for very long. Although his teachers refer to him as a leader, a good role model and an excellent student who can always be relied upon, he struggles with his "good boy" label, and tries to break free of it when he can. He loves and excels at everything he tries, and is always a good sport. He is also the most empathetic child in the world. Always concerned with others feelings, to the point that it worries me sometimes.
These boys are so differently seperately, yet when together it is like their bodies and minds meld into one: the "I can't keep my hands off of you" beast. Will someone please tell me that this will get better? I don't know if it is the fault of testosterone (which being a female, I don't have. Or maybe a little, I don't know but I do know that it's not enough to understand this relentless physical relationship that exists between my boy children), or their age, or the fact that they are so close in age, which is a blessing AND a curse at times. They can be hanging out one minute, reading their Nick magazines, or catching bugs, and then BAM!
They collide, always in fun, mind you, but tangled up in each other in the strangest of poses.
It goes on, and on, and on.
I seperate, I plead with them to cut it out before someone looses an eye (or in our case a tooth). I try to ignore it, I sing "la la la la" to myself. I. Can't. Take. It. Any. Longer. I am beginning to think I need to pick up a copy of "How to socialize Your Puppy".