Everything around here is boy. Boy clothes, boy dirt, boy smell, boy toys, boy, boy, boy. I’m not complaining really, I’m sure I’d be completely lost in princess barbie land. I’m comfortable in my boy world. I will admit, as they get older, the toys tend to scare me more. The tricks they do on these “toys” literally make my heart stop at times. I see trips to the emergency room in my head at least 20 times a day. I know as they get older, it will only get worse. They are growing up so fast, I can’t keep up.
Then I think, well, at least Jackson isn’t quite there yet. I still have a few more minutes of little. He comes barreling down the driveway on his little boy scooter, hops off, and races after the big boys. Ok, I have to go cry now…
