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Don’t Take Them All to J.Crew at Once…. and other things I’ve learning about raising boys.

May 10, 2016

 

things i've learned about raising boys

Things I’ve Learned about Raising Boys….

10. They suck at communication.

“Hey! How was school today??!”

Good.

“Did you do anything fun? Learn anything new?

……. Hello? Are you there? Hello?”

Yeah sorry mom. Didn’t I just say it was good?

“Yeah but bu-…”

Mom. Everthing is g-o-o-d. And what would be really good is if you can you make me a sandwich?

9. They have selective aim. Baseballs? Smack dab across home plate. Hockey pucks? Top shelf, left side? No problem. Nerf gun to the brother’s right butt cheek? Challenge them, puh-lease. But ask them to get their pee in the toilet? There exists no toilet bowl big enough to contain their stream of urine, no matter the age of the child or the degree of potty train-ed-ness. Forget pee on the seat. That is a given. Nothing is safe. Your walls, your grout, and most definitely the trashcan next to the toilet. Might as well just plaster a white flag on your bathroom door with a sign: “Excuse the smell of urine. Raising boys. I give up.” Oh, and the kicker? Your husband will take their side.

8. Two words: Skid Marks. But it’s not what you think. Yeah, ok what you are thinking is inevitable because boys are, well, gross, but skid marks need not only apply to undergarments. You’ll have skid marks in places you’d never imagine. Take my ceiling, for example. Yep. From their balls. Footballs, people! Ball throwing etiquette is not in their realm of understanding. If there is a ball or any object capable of taking flight, it will be thrown, and as a result, you will have ball throwing skid marks all over your walls and all over your ceilings. This morning the ball throwing object of choice was blueberries. Mini balls! What fun!! Mini blue balls all over my kitchen floor…..

7. Do NOT take them to J.Crew, or at least don’t take them all at once. Last week I took my kids to J.Crew to get my niece a birthday present. We walked in cool, calm and collected. We were all holding hands. People were smiling at us like, “Oh they are so cute! And she’s pregnant! Wow, but obviously she can handle one more. Look at them all listening to her and holding hands.” That’s right people. I GOT this. I can do this. But within seconds, the bulls were loose. One had 13 different necklaces strung tangled and twisted around his neck screaming ‘Hey MA! You think she will like theeeeeese?!”(insert ungraceful ballerina-esque twirl that sent him plummeting to the floor). But before I could undo the damage another one popped out from under the display table knocking an entire stack of neatly folded $36 t-shirts with sequins and proceed to massage them into his booger encrusted face, “No THEEEESE! She likes SPAWKLES!!!” And the third kid? Oh crap! Where is he? A quick scan around the store looking up and down and oh, wonderful, there he is. There he is just nonchalantly feeling up the mannequin. Legit, hands up her shirt trying to find her boobs. And that was only the first 45 seconds. So when my husband questions the amount I spent in that store that day. I will not flinch. Whatever money was spent was done so to justify the horrifically embarrassing experience. Something good had to come out of it. Something other than the sales associate asking me if she needed me to blow her whistle. I wish I were kidding……

6. Portion control is not a thing. It doesn’t matter if I buy one box of granola bars or 6 boxes of granola bars. In one day, they will all be gone. Oh, and their favorite time of day to shove all the things into their mouths? Just before dinner, just before bedtime, and just after I say “Get your shoes on we are late and need to GO!”

5. Boys are not cheap. What girl moms spend on hair bows and ridiculously cute bite sized gladiators, boy moms spend on $20 socks and Under Armour shorts because they are the only ones that don’t itch, don’t pinch, and make the child essentially feel like they are free and naked which brings me to my next point….

4. “Why are you naked?” is not a question. It’s more like, “Oh, wow. You are clothed. Is everything okay?”

3. Boys cry. A lot. They also like to play dress up. And put on mommy’s make up (but warning: use of the eye lash curler requires adult supervision otherwise it turns into eyeball curling…..). They also like to play house and rock babies and make food in pretend kitchens.

2. The world of “penis” is very black and white. You either “have a penis” or you “don’t have a penis”. Being that I am in the “don’t have a penis” classification, I am part of the honored category that “has boobs”. Having boobs means you are amongst the privy select to answering many questions about the appendages attached to you upper torso, like for example…. WHAT inside of them? Why do moms who have babies in their bellies have bigger boobs? Can they get wet? Why do some boobs have lines between them? Or my personal favorite, “Hey mom, is it okay if I just put your boobs over here?”….. as child picks up my (very padded) bra and places it on my bed…..

1.  Someday they will be men. Despite their crazy shenanigans and boundless amounts of energy, one day, they will be grown up. As their mom, I am the lucky one to know all of their “isms” inside out. The one who experiences the spectrum of their personality and gets to *try* to shape them and guide them to be not only their best person, but more importantly, their happiest. And this whole list doesn’t matter that they are boys. If I had girls, I’d be writing this list too… and I imagine one of my points would be have something to do with the fact that when you ask them to smile for a picture (shocker) they actually do it! This is just a list of kid-isms, kids that happen to be mine. And when I sit back and read this list, I should feel exhausted and maybe a little frustrated (which I am), but mostly it makes the corners of my mouth turn up, because this sums up my boys in all of their glory. And once I’m done cleaning  up the aftermath of our days and have tucked them into bed and have flopped myself down on the couch, I can’t help but think, I am FREAKING spent…….oh, but those kids? They are pretty freaking awesome. things i've learned about raising boys

 

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