And sometimes your kids make you cry

We have a new niece. And she is lovely and beautiful and perfect.

As we knew she would be.

We prepared to take the whole family to the hospital to meet her the other night. And I found myself, as I sometimes do, entering more of my drill sergeant mode that I'd like to.

"And how do we behave at the hospital?"

"Good, ma'am, yes ma'am." (No they don't respond that way, by the way. And thank goodness. Holy guilt complex...)

"And do we run in the hallways?"

"No, ma'am!"

"And are the other people there to have a party sponsored by the Snyder boys? Or to have a baby?"

"A baby!"

And then we got there and met her. And I was amazed by what happened.

They adored her.

Giddily, adoringly loved her.

Not that it's hard to. But these boys adore Pokemon cards. And light sabers.

Sleeping six-pound mushy delights? I wasn't so sure about.

And then all on his own, Noah leaned over and kissed her. And I melted.

Yes, they can be wild men. The boysiest (totally a word) of all boys.

But they are sweet and good and kind.

Even if right before we left the house I had to say,

"And don't jump on the bed! Do we all know what your Aunt went through today?"

(side note: c-section)

To which Noah replied:

"Yeah, it sounds horrible. I am pretty sure she, like, had her vagina dissected."


Yes. Still boys. Still wonderful. Still them.