Here's what eight looks like at our house. Eight year old boys have a silly streak. Mine does anyway. At eight, Gabe is full of bizarre, random thoughts. He is filled with stories from his day that are taken out of context and sound weird to the parental ear. Eight year old Gabe is sassy too, and has already decided Isom and I are complete morons. It's only okay because at eight, Gabe is loving and kind to his little brother...who is also eight...weeks. The large age gap that I spent many sleepless nights worrying about has turned out to be a mostly good thing (a few things are awkward and take some adjusting). It's nice to see the big eight caring for the little eight. Eight week old boys are a little fussy, but it's because they now know exactly what they want. Me. Momma. All day, everyday. Good thing I'm able to stay at home. At eight weeks, Zach is the exact opposite of his big brother in every way. Gabe would scream at bath time. Zach loves it. Gabe could be soothed by and loved all music---even our off tune, off pitch singing. Zach could care less what tunes we play. Gabe was an "enthusiastic" baby. Zach is more low key. But the two versions of eight work together nicely and the balance in our house is good...for now. They won't ever be the same in years and weeks again so I'm enjoying the fact that I can say I have two boys that are eight.
Here's what eight looks like at our house. Eight year old boys have a silly streak. Mine does anyway. At eight, Gabe is full of bizarre, random thoughts. He is filled with stories from his day that are taken out of context and sound weird to the parental ear. Eight year old Gabe is sassy too, and has already decided Isom and I are complete morons. It's only okay because at eight, Gabe is loving and kind to his little brother...who is also eight...weeks. The large age gap that I spent many sleepless nights worrying about has turned out to be a mostly good thing (a few things are awkward and take some adjusting). It's nice to see the big eight caring for the little eight. Eight week old boys are a little fussy, but it's because they now know exactly what they want. Me. Momma. All day, everyday. Good thing I'm able to stay at home. At eight weeks, Zach is the exact opposite of his big brother in every way. Gabe would scream at bath time. Zach loves it. Gabe could be soothed by and loved all music---even our off tune, off pitch singing. Zach could care less what tunes we play. Gabe was an "enthusiastic" baby. Zach is more low key. But the two versions of eight work together nicely and the balance in our house is good...for now. They won't ever be the same in years and weeks again so I'm enjoying the fact that I can say I have two boys that are eight.
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