Love Hurts

Around here, love doesn’t always look the way I’d like it to look. Boys sometimes have a funny way of showing they care.

Of course my boys can be very sweet with me—they are always quick to give me a kiss (on the lips even!), to tell me they love me. I get fresh-picked flowers (from the neighbors yard) and if I’m feeling sad, at least one of the boys will ask if I’m okay.

Boys can certainly be tender.

But with each other—not so much. I’m finding that when it comes to brotherly love, the manifestations are often strange and curious.

There’s the age-old wrestling, wildly popular in our home. When the boys are feeling happy and excited, I can tell because they are wound up in a giant ball of frenzy in the front room. There are high-fives, the guy equivalent to a hug—and remind me to tell you about how I’ve been finding myself giving high-fives when I’m excited lately. The boys are totally rubbing off on me. There are slaps on the bum and noogies and ninja kicks.

And then there are the words of encouragment.

In my female world, we say things like “You are amazing,” and “I know you can do it!” For guys, it’s a bit different.

Yesterday morning, Ethan was an altar server. Because he has to arrive fifteen minutes before Mass begins, we dropped him off at the back door of the church to get ready. As he was getting out, Charlie called out to his brother as he left.

“Go get ‘em tiger.”

In other words: You are amazing. I know you can do it!