“I love my boys to. It’s but it’s always so wild, rough and loud and I just wish that there would be a girl as well to balance it out.” It was a raw and honest statement a friend of mine recently made. The funny thing is that I heard a similar one about having only girls as well.
So there I am, sitting on the grass in a park, the fall sun in my face. The dogs are chasing birds and the kids are playing a bit further away in one of the trees. And I realize how blessed I actually am.
Not only do I have two healthy and wonderful children but I also have a boy and a girl. I got “a piece each”. I got the cars and dinosaurs, the wrestling and the ninja. I also got the princess, the pink, the dancing and braiding hair. What I also got is two kids that love to play with each other, finding something they both enjoy. Playing spy and superhero or explorers. Two siblings being buddies and loving each other to bits.
Just right now I realize how lucky I am. Because I have a boy and a girl but more because they like each other so very much. I’m lucky because I know they will be there for each other. They have a deep connection that will never go away.
Yes, my princess is guarded and will always be guarded by her big brother. But my son will also always be guarded by his little sister. I remember a couple of years ago when my daughter was probably only just about 2 or 3 we were on a playground and one of the boys got a bit rude with my son. I sort of let them be as to a certain degree it’s just child’s play and a form of finding and establishing boundaries. But my daughter decided to step in. So she marched over to the boys, positioned herself between her brother and the other boy and with a very angry little face very loudly said: ” You don’t talk like this to my brother!” Then she turned around, smiled at my son, gave him a big hug and marched off.
There are many examples like this. Like when one of my son’s buddies many years ago called my daughter a little jerk. Frankly it was one of the moments I was robbed of my words, feeling breathless and only looking at his mother, expecting her to say something. She never did. It was only a couple of seconds and yet it feels like an eternity. But I still hear the words, see my little girls face and how sad she got, I see the boy and his mom and still feel the frustration about her not stepping up. I also remember so clearly how my son turns around angrily, grabbing the other boy by the shirt and saying: “Don’t you dare talking to my sister like this ever again!” And that was it. We left.
Although these two just like all the other kids out there have their moments of arguments and telling each other off, they always step up for each other, even if it is towards me or my husband. If they feel the other one is not treated right, they would make it heard. When one is sad, the other one wants to help. They lift each other up. And it’s something that amazes me often.
I’m not the mother of other children. But I hear other mothers talk. I hear them complain about the constant fights and nagging at each other their kids go through. There are only a couple of mothers I know I’ve never heard complain. Those are though the moms that I feel have a similar approach to raising their kids, similar rules and values as we do.
So while the sun gets weaker and the air cooler, while I suddenly start feeling the cold from the ground below me, I realize it’s time to head home. My kids are still giggling and playing and chasing each other. I watch them while I get up and call the dogs. Time to go home. A big smile on my face I realize the beauty of this moment. I realize what we all have. This truly is the beauty of having it all…