One Week, Two Boys

Last week, one boy trotted off to his first day of preschool and the other slurped down his first real meal. One boy screamed and chased me down the sidewalk. The other chased the spoon with his mouth, but didn’t have much to say about it.

One boy loves to stir the pot and crack the eggs and measure and pour and toss in another handful of fresh basil he helped pick from our backyard. The other boy loves to chew and gum and drool over handfuls of baby toys he picks up from within the circumference of his reach.

One boy is the youngest in his class, but you’d never know it from his tall, rib-baring-skinny body and never-ending, why-begging, impossibly articulate (often maddeningly so) conversations. The other boy is turning seven months old tomorrow, but you’d never know it from his rotund, gigantic body, all squishy thighs and tummy that pleats like a cheerleader skirt.

One boy says, “I love you from earth to sky.” The other boy gave his first real, honest-to-goodness, hands-around-the-neck hug—and I felt my heart soar from this earth into that sky.