My grandmother had three daughters and one son. My uncle had two daughters and one son. My mother had me and one son. My aunt had one daughter and one son. I never really thought much about it until I had TWO sons. There is an extreme difference in raising one boy as opposed to raising two. Now don’t get me wrong, boys are a joy. They are affectionate, protective and tenderhearted little men but they can fight like no animal I have ever seen. There is a little word that plays a BIG role in a household with multiple boys and that word is “competition”. It is something deep within the genetic makeup of these little guys that is fascinating and yet infuriating at the same time. They are best friends and worst enemies depending on which side of the bed they wake up on. They will share a bed and a bath but they will NOT share a soda without an “episode”.
As a Mom this can be very taxing on the nerves when it must be dealt with on a daily basis. Everything, and I do mean every thing results in some sort of competition. “I have the fullest cup”. “I have biggest gun”. “I’m going to get down the stairs first”. “I am the tallest”. “I get to carry the most groceries in from the car.” It is never ending…
A few nights ago around bedtime I heard a scream from my kitchen. I jumped up and ran to find Judah (4) sitting in the floor and his sister (9) looking like she was going to faint. She had been carrying her brother on her back when they stumbled and he hit his forehead on one of Daddy’s tools that was sitting by our back door. I turned Judah around to find his forehead, eyebrows, and face literally covered with blood. He had grabbed his head with his hands which were also covered with blood and it was beginning to run down his wrists. I grabbed a kitchen towel and tried to wipe him clean so I could assess the damage but each time I would remove the towel more blood would run in rivulets down his face. I was sitting there trying to decide what to do next when big brother Levi (6) came running down the stairs. He had heard the commotion from his bed and came to see what was happening. I had no idea he would react the way that he did and I was not really prepared. He instantly went into full panic mode. He grabbed his big sister in the middle of the kitchen and began to sob LOUD and uncontrollably. Big sister joined right in on the panic and turned on the tears as well. So there I was home alone, sitting in the middle of the floor holding my four year old covered in blood and watching my two eldest, both arms around each other, and both having a total emotional breakdown. Chaos!
From somewhere I pulled a little “Mommy calmness” and just started talking to everyone and giving them jobs. “Levi, get a band aid and Jess get a wash cloth…” and I went to work cleaning up the bleeding victim. While I worked on the wound Levi bravely marched up to his brother, placed his little hand on his head and began to pray. He reached over and grabbed his sister’s hand and insisted she pray too. I was so proud of him because he was incredibly scared. I was relieved to find a TINY scrape on the edge of Judah’s hairline about the size of a pencil lead. That was it. I have no clue where all the blood came from but that was the extent of the injury.
Once everyone was clean and doctored I showed them how the wound was nothing more than a tiny cut. You could see Levi take a deep breath of relief and then the tears erupted all over again. It just goes to show that these two can fight like cats and dogs but they are incredibly protective of each other. It’s a fascinating dynamic and I am thoroughly enjoying watching this relationship develop as they grow. Yes, it is exhausting at times. But then when you see the deep bond they share it is clear that there’s nothing else in the world like it.