My Boy

There are a lot of boys in my life. I have one sibling-a brother. My husband is a boy, and he has 4 older brothers and a brother-in-law. Between us we have 13 nephews. I have a Dad and a Father-in-Law.

And I have a son.

I love both of my kids equally, and no amount of water boarding or electric shock torture would make me say differently. Allie is very much like me, both in looks and personality. I'll write more about her tomorrow. Today's entry is about Kyle.

Thanks to my "advanced maternal age" with Kyle, I got to have all sorts of scary prenatal tests with him. There was a horrid moment when they told us that we had a 1 in 8 chance of having a baby with a non-survivable genetic defect. Then they did an ultrasound of him at 13 weeks while they jammed a needle in my belly and took a sample to check his chromosomes. Even though we couldn't see anything, I just new when I looked at that ultrasound that I was looking at My Boy.

I have never seen such a spastic baby in utero. He flipped, he wiggled, he danced all over the place. As they were poking the largest needle I have ever seen into my belly, I remember declaring to David that he better be a Momma's boy!

As it turned out, all was fine with Kyle. He was just getting us used to how it was going to be with him early. Nothing but trouble. He's ornery (he told me so himself just 2 days ago). He's constantly in motion (people who meet Kyle for the first time invariably say the same thing--does he ever just stand still?? The answer is no). And he's fearless. I have a lot more gray hair than I used to, for reasons having nothing to do with my advanced maternal age!

I went on to have the most miserable pregnancy--Gestational Diabetes, preterm labor, modified bed rest and then a c-section delivery of a 9 pound, 11 ounce bundle of energy.

Now he's three and with his missing front 4 teeth, he's even more adorable than he was before. He's added another weapon to his arsenal as well. He's charming. When he's getting in trouble for something, he will hug me and smother me with kisses. He bats his baby blues at me and smiles so sweetly, like he could never EVER have done what he's being accused of, even while he's holding the evidence of his crimes in his hot little hands.

Last night was the perfect example. He wanted me to lay in bed with him. I do lay with the kids each night and we talk about how their day went and things like that. But he didn't want me to leave. I told him I had more things to do before I went to bed. And he turned those eyes on me and said "But Mommy, when you are not here, my heart is broken." How can I say no to that (for the record, I didn't).

So despite the miserable pregnancy, the stretch marks, the sleepless nights and the gray hair, I would do it all over again 1000 times to end up with Kyle. My boy.