B = Baby Boys #SpankA2Z 3


boys

B = Baby Boys

I’ve been blessed to have both a daughter and a son. And for those of us who have both, we can tell you there are plusses and minuses for each.

I remember the day my son was born — vividly. May in Upstate New York is beautiful, warm, and sunny. Tulips and lilacs are everywhere, magnolias are in bloom and we took many, many walks. My daughter had just turned twenty-one months and after being in premature labor for him almost three months, I was very glad to finally be in official labor.

From the first contraction to him being in my arms had only taken three hours. My mother and husband were present, and I walked and laughed through the whole labor crowning while walking until the nurse forced me into bed.

His birth occurred before you were able to find out what you were having, so the excitement of hearing “It’s a Boy!”  has stuck with me, and I’m sure it’ll stick with me for a lifetime. The first thing I did when they put him in my arms was to kiss him on the cheek and lips whispering, “Don’t you ever forget that I was the first woman to kiss you.”

Mothers will tell you–we love our daughters, but there is something about a son that tugs at our heart strings. Just as a father will tell you that they love their sons, but their daughters tug on theirs.

I think it’s because we’re constantly amazed at their antics, how they think, the things they do and say …. I don’t know, there’s just something about a son that warms our hearts. He sucked his thumb and carried a blanket, and I thought he was just the most adorable little boy I’d ever seen. He had dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes with dimples.

Boys love their mothers too. It’s a mutual thing. When Dad’s don’t understand, mother’s are there to listen and act as a go between. He would bring me flowers from outside, surprise me with breakfast on a tray, and write me little notes telling me how much he loved me.   Little boys wrap us around their fingers like little girls do with their Dad

At three years old, he would routinely wake me up, leaning on the bed, rubbing my arm.  “Do you smell that Mommy?”  He’d stop and sniff the air dramatically.  “It smells like apple pie. Please. Please, make me an apple pie, Mommy.”  I swear that year we had apple pie weekly.  My husband still talks about it “but he wants apple pie, I want peach pie but I can go scratch.”  hehehe

It has not been easy raising a son some days, but the sweet moments between a mother and son and the memories make it worth it all.  There’s something special between a mother and a son.

B is for Baby Boy

 


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