In order to juxtapose my last post with the heavily weighted male side of our house, this is what occurred last evening.
A little glimpse...
Right before bed, Caleb came up to me and gently but firmly dug his little chin into my arm. Before I could remind him he was being too rough with me, he looked at me fervently and said, "Mom, I'm ready to fight. I'm ready."
Instead of laughing in his face about the cuteness he was exuding (especially because he was oh.so.serious), I bit my lip and then said, "Well then, go find Dad. I'm sure he'd love to fight you."
And so he did.
All three of them did in fact.
Every weapon in the house was out. They were running, screaming, punching, kicking and wrestling around like crazy men. One of their favorite games is to throw stuffed animals at their Dad, which he promptly pelts them back with. It was absolute chaos. But it always is. It never fails that someone is crying for a minute because they got knocked around just a bit too much. That's usually when I give Steve "The Look" that basically says, "Did you have to tickle him that much?!!" Steve always "looks" back and says, "He's totally fine." And within a few seconds, they're back and ready for more.
At one point, Elliana was catching the energy for a bit so I sent her in to investigate just to see how she would handle it. She made it into the playroom where they were, saw the madness, threw me a little look and then side-stepped them every so carefully to go play with her kitchen. But not without giving her Da Da a little pat on the head first. That was her best shot people.
I about died laughing. And I couldn't believe this beautiful material was unfolding right in front of me, especially since I had just written about femininity.
The differences are just stark. And I love it.