The Truth About Boys

I have three boys. 1-2-3. Three.  I will frequently share my sheer disbelief that this in fact is my life, because according to my playbook, I was supposed to have two little girls.  Alas, I ended up with Zachary, Evan AND Julian!

I grew up in a family with fairly low testosterone levels.  My father preferred poetry to football, and later my stepfather, while he enjoyed his Mets, was more inclined to take us ladies to the ballet than spend the day doing "man stuff" like fixing cars.    I had one sister and neither of us were particularly athletic or tom-boyish.   I grew up as girly as could be. I had a brief and ill-conceived stint with modern dance, I was involved in theater and show-choir, and I was loath to participate in gym class.  I am an unapologetic stereotypical chick living in a house with all boys.  So I know a thing or two about cohabiting with them, and I'm going to share these life lessons with you.

1) Boys make your house smell like piss.  What would seem like it should be some sort of a genetic  advantage, (the ability to aim) instead  has lead to the decline in sanitary homes across the world, and  increased the stock value of disinfectant wipe manufacturers.

2) There is never a quiet moment.....EVER.  I remember my own mother's reaction to an early visit with her grandsons.  "There is so much NOISE" she commented, and reminisced about the days my sister and I quietly hid in our bedrooms reenacting soap opera scenes with our Barbie dolls.  No my boys believe that in order to be heard they must be screeching at full capacity.  Dinner conversation at our family table usually consists of  "you want what?! I can't hear you! Zachary stop shrieking  the lyrics to Hamilton, for the love of God!"

3) They bounce of the walls. No. Literally.  Case in point, today I accompanied my youngest on a class field trip and several of the boys were seriously throwing themselves at the wall in the elevator, laughing hysterically.  No, the girls were not participating.

4) They don't want to get a pedicure with their mom.  I suppose that is obvious, but I am just throwing it in there. Because, I always wanted to get a pedicure with my offspring.  *Sigh*

5) Every hour of our free time seems to be consumed with some sports related activity.  Whether it is soccer, baseball or basketball practice, a kid's game, a team "photo-shoot", a post season pizza party, a live Rockies game, a Rockies game on TV, a Rockies game on the Radio, reminiscing about a past Rockies game, or reading the Rockies stats in the local paper...... you get the idea.  

6) Someone is going to get hurt.  Boys play hard. Often times, hard play turns to play fighting, which turns to real fighting which turns to bruises, bites, tears and maybe someday broken bones.  Some boys in their frenzy of hyper-activity fall and hurt themselves. Sometimes badly.  (Now don't get me wrong, I assume that this may also be the case for girls, but I don't have girls so I don't know.)  We have been lucky thus far., and have only endured one concussion, and two trips to the ER for head stitches.

I could go on with my list, however I am at the end of my day as a boy-mom and I am totally worn out.  I have dealt with boys throwing themselves at elevator walls, endured a meal with my family which for safety reasons should have been accompanied by ear plugs,  washed and folded what seemed like 3000 baseball and soccer uniforms, and cleaned piss off the bathroom floor for the 110th time this week (it's Monday.)

So goodnight fellow boy moms. Sleep well. It starts again tomorrow!