Testosterone and Adrenaline

Saturday morning we had a soccer game in the unusually frigid temperatures we have been experiencing this Fall. R, our lover-of-all-things-sports, decided that it was simply too cold to play and snuggled in with me (while K enjoyed time in my Mom's lap). Although we were disappointed that my parents and my grandmother did not get to see both boys play, it was a neat experience for P to have all of us on the sidelines cheering just for him. My Mom & Dad had brought my grandmother in town for a visit, so P's cheering section consisted of 7...AND he had our undivided attention.

It was the first time he has actually stuck it out for the whole game. He is not an aggressive player, by a long shot. This is perhaps best illustrated by the fact that he never once took his hands out of his pockets the entire game. We remarked that he was playing the least traditional soccer, but having the best time. P is characterized by just enjoying the ride of life in whatever experience he is in. The cool breeze blowing on his face, people cheering for him, being surrounded by his friends...he was a happy camper.

(This was taken Sunday afternoon on an outing to a nearby farm.)

P is our thrill seeker who laughs too loud and dances all the time. He is always seeking the next great experience of life.

R, on the other hand, is much more of a stereotypical little boy. Sticks, stones, boots, play guns and swords. Life to him is a battle to be fought or a mountain to be conquered. He is uber competitive and exceedingly passionate. And one of these looks? Well, it simply melts me in a minute flat. Unless it comes on the heels of one of his epic foot stomping, growl producing, displays of his passion. R is pure testosterone.

I grew up with only one sibling, a sister, so I am still not quite sure to do with so much of that masculine hormone surging through my little 34 lb son's body. Truth be told, most of our problems are because he doesn't know what to do with it either. I am thankful for a strong, loving Daddy to help guide us both through this.
And then there is little Miss Estrogen. I feel much more kinship with her. I get the tattling (even though I don't like it) and her driving need for justice. I am more sympathetic about her seemingly unnecessary tears and her bleeding heart for needy insects, animals and people.But the posing...I am still not sure what hormone that comes from. :-)