Saturday, 2 April 2016
B is for Boys
My three boys are a wonderful bunch, and I love them s much it hurts.
One is big, bigger than me, though slightly younger (all of nine months younger - that counts). That is my husband.
Then there are two really younger ones, somewhat wilder, who I've carried inside me. That would be our sons. They've calmed down a bit now as the older one is closing in on teenage, but they're certainly more intense than I was at that age. I blame my husband for this (who else?).
The youngest boy is diagnosed with ADHD and mild Autismsyndrome, which constantly makes life more interesting. The husband thinks he's got something like that too - and I'm not arguing against it. Truth is, I think the older boy has 'something' too. Maybe that goes for me as well. I guess self-diagnoses are hard, and it doesn't relly matter so long as life works. And it does.
It's just me going crazy sometimes, when my introvert brain wants to be alone and my three boys just can't seem to leave me be. Because for some reason I'm the one who always knows where stuff are or what they're supposed to be doing or when to leave in time.
But we have a life, a wonderful life. Mostly.