Happy Wednesday, folks.

I have a house full of boys.

Two young souls who are quickly morphing into young men. A young man who, before my eyes, is suddenly standing on the doorstep of adulthood. And a grown man with a kindhearted, ever-present childlike spirit about him – even as he’s leading an entire team at one of the world’s most revered companies.

Soon after the boys’ dad and I split when Colin + Sam were 1 1/2, they asked me for a big brother. I laughed at the adorable notion – not ready to explain how birth order worked.

And not long after that, before they turned two, I met Dom.

And Alex – he was 11.

When Dom and I started up, we did all of the things that teenagers do. We talked on the phone for hours. We kissed on the front porch before saying goodnight for the evening. He brought me flowers and I bought him a CD I thought he’d like. We held hands when we walked through the mall.

It was fun. It was exciting.

But each of us had a day, very early on, when we knew that what we were about to embark on was bigger and better than anything we could have envisioned when we clicked on each other’s profile pictures on Match.com [yes, gasp, we met on the internet!].

{For him} One day he called me and asked if I wanted to spend the day with Alex and him at a local waterpark. Um?! Hello!!! Yes, I do! [I’m a natural people-watcher, courtesy of my grandmother, so a day at the Jersey Shore is very alluring to me because there is no place in the entire world like Seaside Heights, NJ.] We spent all day on the slides and rides. We loafed hand-in-hand on a double-tube on the lazy river. And then it happened. As we floated along, Alex nonchalantly asked, “Noelle, I know you’re my dad’s friend…but are you my friend, too?”

And time stood still.

Thankfully I had the wherewithal to speak – and I said, enthusiastically, “Of course I am silly! Your-Dad-Who?!”

And Alex was happy.

And Domenick knew.

{For me} His family spends “beach week” in a cool little town about an hour south of us – near Long Beach Island. And he invited the boys and me to head down for the day. Sneaking mixed drinks on the beach out of an Igloo while children throw sand in each other’s eyes – seriously? Who can resist?! Not this girl…so I packed the kids up and we headed down to Beach Haven.

There were lots of new faces for me to meet there that day. It was like they had taken over the beach. It was a sea of tattoos and Ray Bans. They were welcoming and warm. But my eyes were fixed on one site. And it wasn’t a face. It was a back.

It was Domenick, carefully holding my son, Colin – newly two, waist-deep in the Atlantic.

Colin loved the water. He dove off the diving boarding for the first time just weeks earlier. He routinely swam underwater from one end of our pool to the other without coming up for a breath. But the ocean was another game for him. He didn’t like the sand. He didn’t like the waves. The fish. The shells.

And there he was, in the arms of a lovely man – joyous. Playful. Laughing. Safe. Loved.

And Colin was happy.

And I knew.

We had some [READ: A LOT] of bumps and bruises over the years. It is not an easy task to blend a family together. It is a dance.

Domenick and I loved each other. But we were deeply connected to our respective children first. And thoughts would churn – Is she being soft enough with him? Is he being firm enough for them? Am I sharing my time fairly? Is he including me on these decisions? Are we doing the right thing for them all?

Fast-forward six years.

We often tell each other what we are thankful for about the others in our nifty little family.

And what always comes to my mind is how amazing Alex cares for his first girlfriend, Hayley. They started dating in May of 2013 + how our household has changed with her addition to it. I’m sure he makes mistakes, but from where I stand, he is kind and tender. He cares about her. So very deeply – he cares about her.

He gets that from his dad.

And my sons are growing to be sensitive and loving young men, as well. They are smart + creative. They are funny + spiritual. But when I look at them as they’re falling asleep, I don’t see the O’s on their report cards or the hit they had on the baseball field. I know – way deep down in my belly button – that they’re going to make incredible husbands. Fathers. Men.

And they get that from the examples around them – their dad, my dad, my brother, my grandfather, Alex – and Domenick.

It’s been chaotic. And emotional. And sometimes it’s been a downright circus.

But it’s also a glorious commitment. And it’s rewarding. And it’s a choice.

Blending isn’t easy. But when it’s done well – in a family, in a piece of artwork, your new hair color, that salad dressing you love – you name it – it’s so beautiful that it hurts, as Domenick says.

Families come in many shapes and sizes. Mine comes in the form of three boys and one man. Brothers who are not bonded by blood, but rather by love. A son who is not “mine”, but, oh, how he is such a part of me. A man not bound by a ring, but instead by an intimate commitment of another kind.

I love my house of boys. I am proud of the mom and woman I am for them.

Despite the stinky socks and influx of Axe canisters strewn throughout my house.

See you on the flip-side.

In love,

Noelle

xoxox