It seems to me that it was yesterday that you were mere babes in my arms – tiny bundles of wonder with the world at your feet. So much life has happened since then, and now you are both gone from my home. You were my first and my second, but for all intents and purposes you were one- AdamErik by your own admission. I cut my parenting teeth on the two of you. I learned the meaning of time, and the fleeting nature of this thing called life.   I also screwed up – alot!

You both taught me so much; way more than I believe I could have taught either of you. You taught me that rules are made to be broken, and whatever I didn’t say out loud was fair game. You taught me that your names written in green sharpie minutes before the Realtor walked in the front door for the third time in 36 hours while dad traveled, and I yelled and cleaned is not a necessary reason for a nervous breakdown. Instead, it is cause for raucous laughter, an excuse to cancel the showing and a good time to sit down to a makeshift picnic of hot dogs and grape juice. I’ll admit there was a lot of yelling too.

You taught me that bunk beds cannot withstand the nightly jumping antics of two rowdy boys forever, and that when you remove each and every light plate from the sockets on the wall organization is important. You taught me that there is a really cool looking material inside of a really, really wet diaper, that frogs can be held and snakes and I can coexist on the same planet.

You taught me the importance of cheering from the sideslines whether your team was last, you were running cross country or defending the goal. You taught me the true meaning of sportsmanship and the necessity for many extra blankets in the trunk of my car.

Because of you, I got to experience the wonder of sleeping in a tent on the top of a mountain in the dead of winter, traverse a high wire on belay and hike in all seasons. I learned how to drive most anywhere at anytime and most of all I learned the mind numbing fear of a phone call at 2 a.m. (that thankfully was good news, not bad).

Together, you were frick and frack, peanut butter and jelly and thing one and thing 2 – you were also the brain and the braun interchangeably; depending on the day and who had been punished last. Dad and I used to joke that there was a lottery for whose turn it was to be in trouble and be up all night – again interchangeably depending on your moods.

You taught me to value roughhousing, how to throw a football, defend a goal and always put my friends first – you taught me that a hug, a cookie and a long night’s sleep could cure most anything.

You taught me strength and resilience, you were my rocks through my mother’s death, even though you were then and probably still are now, unaware of how much you mattered in those initial days. Trust me when I tell you making your lunches, sending you off to school with hugs and smiles and helping with homework at night kept a rhythm to my days that made it all worthwhile.

I cried when they peeled you off of my body for Kindergarten (YES, both of you), I cried when I dropped you off to your first dance, I cried when you played in the band, marched in a parade or participated in a sport, but they were tears of joy for all that you were becoming. I loved everything about spending my fall mornings on a freezing cold soccer field and afternoons waiting for an elusive glimpse of you as you ran through the woods for cross country.

You taught me the true meaning of the word “big brothers.” Your sister is the luckiest girl alive, but only second in line to me. I used to think God was truly insane for trusting me with three sons – after all I knew NOTHING about the male species. Looking at you today –  I know he knew exactly what he was doing. You are my rocks, my loves and my babies. You are now my favorite men, and I so look forward to being part of the futures you are creating.

Now go, be amazing, and never forget how much I love you.

Always,
MOM