My Guys

The other night, around 1:00, our door was flung open, then closed, and a small, wordless boy climbed up into our bed, snuggled down in between us, pulled the covers up over his head and went to sleep. I put one arm around him, resting my hand on his father's back. I grew up in a house of boys. I have two brothers and a dad, so my mom and I were the only girls. We have the opposite situation in our house. I always dreamed of having a sister, and now my girls have each other. How lucky. I wonder how this dynamic will work itself out in our home. Will it make Jason and Zachary closer? Will I spoil Zachy even more since he is my only boy? I don't know. But in the middle of the night, I felt so lucky to have my two guys. The little one had (apparently) had a bad dream or maybe just felt lonely. The big one was sound asleep and didn't even know we had company. The little one had been earlier basking in the glory of his first soccer game, so proud that every time he kicked the ball, he gave us a double thumbs up. The big one had been a willing participant in a soccer drill that involved being pelted by a dozen four year old boys kicking their soccer balls at him. The little one had been disappointed by a half-hearted visit with his grandparents that weekend. The older one was used to the disappointment, but now had to deal with hearing about it from me. The younger one dreamed of Lightning McQueen and Star Wars toys. The older one dreamed of paying off a mortgage. They are so different, these two guys, but are bonded because and in spite of this. Their relationship is often tumultuous, but it is full of love. We may have a very rocky road ahead of us with our little man. But for now, nothing makes me prouder and happier than the sight of my two guys, hand in hand.