Some words from A Thousand Splendid Suns:
Boys, Laila came to see, treated friendship the way they treated the sun: its existence undisputed; its radiance best enjoyed, not beheld directly.
Ah, yes. I see this everyday. A boy’s love is about presence. Here. Now. It’s the same quality that allows them to love, then yell, cry and hit, and seconds later, to play and love again. The dispute? Vanished. Not analyzed, aggrandized, pondered or sulked about. I love that. A mother can only hope that all of her mistakes are as easily forgotten as those of a boy’s playmates.
Boy love has been abundant around here: bear hugs, wrestling, secrets and giggling, plans for a joint venture in the construction industry, and two brothers sleeping in the same room (and whispering and NOT sleeping). It seems that G-man has given up the family bed, spurred by the squeaks and squawks of his little brother and lured by the persuasive efforts of his older brother. His doing, all together, but the timing is nice. Four in a bed can get a bit snug.
I wish I had pictures of all this brotherly love. I’ll work on that. Right now remembering that there is a camera is about as far as I can get in our day to day operations, which are flowing quite smoothly for a new family of five. I am still just watching it all unfold — new rhythm to our days, new relationships, new little person to love and wonder about — hoping that all of the little moments, joyous and exasperating, will stick somewhere, so that maybe, one day, when I am old, watching a mother nurse her babe, while playing a game with a second child, and reading a book to a third, I will remember the way this time feels.
And here are some unrelated photos of what the three boys are doing these days:
Riding up and racing down.
Watching for fires, safe from the stroller, which now has sirens.
Growing cheeks and ears. And smiling lots, but I am too busy smiling back to get any photos.