BOYS BOYS BOYS

Oh my goodness. These four are just the loves of my life. But they are as handsome as they were a handful growing up...specifically the Boersma-breeds. Praying everyday Maverick Wesley James Boersma turns out half as amazing as his uncles did...but in the meantime...PRAY FOR US.

I'll be the first to admit, pregnancy so far has been a breeze. It's actually not fair how easy it's been, since I know there are some of you out there who are miserable every minute of every day for nine whole months. And for that I am so sorry. But I think God is giving me these easy 22 weeks (so far) because He knows the next 18 years with a second Boermsa male under our roof...will likely NOT be a breeze. I'm no idiot.

And at the end of nine months, you girls will leave the hospital with precious bundles of joy.

I, on the other hand, will be leaving the hospital with A BOERSMA BOY.

Don't get me wrong...while Boersma boys are some of the most incredible men I know...it is by the GRACE OF GOD they are even all here to tell about their potato-gun/van-drifting/wilderness-hiking/firework-lighting stories.

Some of these stories would shock and appall you.
Josh wants me to point out...these stories might also amaze you.

But not me...ohhhhhhh no. I've been listening, observing these boys in their natural habitat, and PREPARING.

Yes, I've been mentally preparing myself for a lethal combination of Josh, Nathan, and Caleb Boersma all combined into our precious Maverick. This way, I'm prepared for pretty much anything...these three have testimonies they would openly share with anyone, and you guys...they are the reason I will spend the next 18+ years TERRIFIED. And that doesn't even begin to cover the aforementioned fireworks, guns, or jumping from the trampoline to the roof of 1605 NW Beechwood St at midnight...all of which are just the Recognized Standard in ridiculous Boersma-Boy shenanigans.

These three put their poor parents through the ringer. When they say, "Patti Boersma is a saint!" They're not just quoting a movie...SHE IS LITERALLY A SAINT.

The chances of us getting a perfect child like...I don't know...lets say, Brecken Fisher are SLIM TO NONE. I think I've seen him spanked less than ten times in his six years of life (because he's nearly perfect). However...I cannot even tell you the number of stories I've heard about Josh, Nathan, and Caleb being spanked for their naughtiness. Hilarious stories today, yes...but probably not so hilarious in 1994, amiright Patti?

He sure is a sweetie. 

Because I didn't have brothers, I find my mind wandering daily to the boys in my life who I know and love the best, imagining what our lil' Mav might be like...and these brothers of mine...are...a handful. Even to this day. The things they pulled when their parents thought they were playing nicely outside...OH MY WORD. I understand forts by the creek and hockey in the street and Big Wheels up and down the driveway (Mary Jo's had these same wonderful amenities...that's a healthy, SAFE childhood), but throwing gas in the firepit directly behind the shed; selling snakes in a bucket to the neighbors; lighting fireworks off in the street (Josh lost his eyebrows on this one); and launching a potato gun down the street accidentally pointed at house (luckily it was just a muffin Patti had burned to oblivion)...these are the stories I have gained priceless knowledge from.

Mav will be made up of equal parts Josh and Mollie, and on the off-chance he isn't a little carbon copy of his daddy, perhaps his namesake will kick in and he'll have a personality like Wes Keil? Might not be so bad right? WRONG. Recently some news has surfaced about my dad's childhood and he has not always been the even-KEILed (see what I did there?), calm, wonderful guy we all know and love today. Ask him about his renegade childhood in Thompson and the broken arm he had to live with for a few days when he jumped off the back of some bleachers at the county fairgrounds with a naughty neighborhood boy (who coincidentally ended up in jail years later)...yea,the odds of us getting a well-behaved child just keep dropping. But the odds of us getting a basketball star are looking pretty good on both sides of the table, I'd say.

There isn't a story they tell anymore that scares me. In the past five years I've been to the Emergency Room THREE TIMES, each time for a different reason with a different boy. The infamous chainsaw-pinky incident with Josh; the motorcycle crash of 2011 with Ben (the only non-Boersma in this blog); and this past Christmas, a giant forehead gash on Caleb when wrestling one of his buddies got out of hand. I've conquered the ER thing and we don't even have kids yet! And every time we leave with the boys in one piece, I can't help but think..."Wow. As long as we live at 422 13th St. having the hospital this close is going to be REALLY HANDY."

Thanks to his dad and uncles...Maverick's chances of getting away with beer cans hidden in luggage under the basement stairs or cigarettes tucked under the seat of the car...please. Those will be the FIRST places I look for evidence. I recognize that there is a time and a place for guns and fireworks to be handled safely (and with these "mature" uncles close by) but I don't think the time of place for those things is during your older sister's grad party...which is when that gasoline-on-the-fire-behind-the-shed-thing happened.

We start the Gun-Slinging-Conservative-American-First-Amendment-Training pretty young in this family. This is how Brecken's fifth birthday party started.

Oh yes, I've learned a thing or two from Josh, Nathan, and Caleb over the years (Kurt too :)...but I've also learned that those memories and stories are absolutely priceless. With amazing, Godly examples like his G'pas and his uncles...I'm significantly less terrified.

But also - still a little terrified.

MmB