raising men

i have two wonderful boys in my life: a man and a toddler. although some times i don't know who's more of a child at times, i really couldn't see my self with anything but boys. Corben's day consists of being loud, banging any toy on any surface, climbing on everything, sneaking into places he shouldn't be, pulling out things he shouldn't be touching, picking up bits of grass and wood whenever we're outside and generally having me running around after him. my mornings are spent watching M spin Corben around hopelessly, hoicking him over his shoulder like a rugby ball and flying him around the bedroom, and even though my worried words are ignored, that's the way of them. 
weekends consist of walks, long walks, anywhere outside to be precise, with a man of mans who loves the wilderness and nature no matter the weather. i spend my weekends chasing after both of them, my boys. they're equally fascinated by the endless adventures mother nature brings; rolling hills, autumn leaves, rivers, ponds, the smell of spring in the air, hot sunshine, woods, birds, rain, flowers, all of natures glory, pebbles and sand. they wear me out. they give me an excuse to breathe deep, to get the fresh air in my lungs. to slow down and just be. mothering boys is the hardest and most rewarding challenge. there's never a dull moment, or a pair of shorts that aren't grass stained, or a hungry mouth that isn't fed. at the end of the day if there's twigs in my hair and dirt on my feet, i know me and my boys have had a good one.