I am Michelle D. Carter

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June 27, 2008

Boys are just a different breed and mine are typical boys. They like to rough house, wrestle, tease and taunt each other (and their sister too). Some days it doesn’t matter how many times you tell them to stop, they keep messing around until someone gets hurt.

 

Knowing how they behave as brothers, twin brothers no less, we put them on different soccer teams. Because they play 3v3 soccer, they have the same coach. We’re fortunate because he is great with kids, has three boys of his own and understands how squirrelly five year old boys can be.

 

However, when the boys’ teams play each other, chaos is unleashed. They consistently push each other, wrestle, etc until the coach, Tim and I are yelling at them. The coach, Shawn, is awesome in dealing with them. He’ll put them at opposite ends of the field to help curtail their orneriness. You would swear they were magnets, drawn to each other. Somehow they still find each other.

 

Last night they had a game at 6:30 then almost an hour break before the 8:00 game. This is a new sports complex and isn’t very spectator friendly. After almost an hour trying to protect yourself from misdirected soccer balls that are rocketing at you at 80 miles per hour and trying to keep a group of 5 years old boys in check, tension levels were high. Let’s say I’m at DEFCON 4.

 

I’m sitting on the bench next to the coach’s wife, Mandy. We were talking about how all the boys were not into the game. I see Alex push Andy to the ground. As Andy’s regaining his composure, I look over to see Alex still taunting Andy. For unknown reasons soon to be all too clear, Alex has his hands placed firmly on each side of his shorts. Seconds later, they were down. He had mooned his brother right there on the soccer field.

 

I shriek, “Oh My God!” And try to hide my face.

 

Mandy turns to the field to see what she missed. “What?” She sees the little round white butt. The hysteria begins. “I saw bare.”

 

I didn’t even know what to say. She asked if it was just something Alex liked to do or if both of them found joy in airing out their back-sides and embarrassing their Mother. That’s an easy question. They both do it. It doesn’t matter to them. See, being open with your body is coming back and kicking me in the butt.

 

For most of us, learning to deal with kids doesn’t happen overnight. We’re given years of opportunity to prepare for their future exploits. The lessons start off easy with simple things and progress as they age. In their own way, they are slowing making me stronger. I’m just worried what they’re preparing me to handle.

 

Regardless of what Tim or some of my close friends may tell you or show you in photographs, the boys did not inherit this skill from me.

 


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