In case you all missed all the moaning and groaning on Twitter, and Facebook from me, I have been sick. Sicker then sick, actually… I felt like I was gonna DIE! For the past week. And I was not the only one that had the plague around here, both Greg and Gory got it as well. (somehow Evan was spared, I don’t get it…)
FInally, today, we sort of started to feel semi-better, and went shopping for groceries (cautiously, since I have STILL to hold down solids, and Greg is still feeling pretty SHITTY if you know what I mean) and got Gory out of the house. This afternoon, Evan was outside riding his Shred Sled, and I decided to take Gory out ot breathe some fresh air, since the weather is FINALLY above freezing. And Gory is now trying to give me a heart attack walking, and wants to explore the world, so might as well let him do that on our driveway, right?
So as I stood ankle deep in half-melted snow and huge chunks of asphalt from the plows all winter as Gory inspected a tree trunk, and Evan fell off his Shred Sled into pig slop a puddle of water I laughed to myself about all of this.
Yeah, you got that right. I LAUGHED!
Cause I have boys. It takes a special mom to raise boys. Don’t believe me?
To raise a boy, you have to be ok with bodily functions. Farting, belching, really bad smells that come from places that you would rather not KNOW can smell like THAT….yeah, you have to be ok with that.
To raise a boy, you have to be willing to laugh at stuff, just cause there is nothing else you can do. Like when your little boy announces to you at 8pm on a school night, that he MAY have a piece of tape in his ear that has been there for 3 or more days, because he shoved it DEEP inside there to try to stick to the ear wax. You need to laugh as you and the nurse that lives next door try to hold him down while you try to fish said ball of scotch tape out of his ear with a pair of tweezers.
To raise a boy, you may have uncomfortable situations with authorities.Like meething with the principal regarding our son spanking the teacher’s rear and exclaiming “who’s your daddy”. To prepare for this, you need strong will, lemme tell you. It is hard to keep a straight face in meetings like that!
To raise a boy, you have to acknowledge the fact that when you undress them to take a bath, that there may be foreign objects hiding in their clothing. It is not unusual to find such things as dirt, rocks, worms, bugs, beetles, melted chocolate, wads of chewed gum, or bits of food in their shoes, socks, or underpants. I have even found lollipop sticks stuck in weird places.
To raise a boy, you need to learn the mechanics of getting items out of small and precarious spaces while using very technical equipment. Like getting a football out of a storm grate using 2 2X4s like a pair of chopsticks. You can throw a metal bat straight up into the branches of a tree to get down a lodged kite.
To raise a boy, you need to file seemingly useless information in your brain, that may have a use at a future date. Like the fact that rubbing alcohol can remove a drawing of a monster den from your leather couch. There is no “fit-it” for a rip made in the leather couch if it is not a clean cut, say made by sawing at it with plastic cutlery. Metal cooking pans make a really rad light show when microwaved.
To raise a boy is to understand that flowers planted in your yard should never be a direct path for little feet. Places that I have not found to be good is anywhere along a fence (this is the landing zone when you jump over the fence) in any areas where a football or soccer ball may travel, or anywhere near the driveway should a skateboard get out of control. Good places for flower beds are next to the garage, so a bike can lay in the middle of it like a decoration, or up in a tree from a hanging basket, cause that makes a good target for nerf footballs.
To raise a boy is to throw away the 5 second rule. It is more like a 2 day rule, but if you sniff it, and it does not smell rancid, then it is fair game.
To raise a boy is to never ask again “how can someone eat that much?” We have no idea how! And as they get older, it gets worse!
To raise a boy is to understand that unless they are unconscious, whatever just happened will either leave a cool scar, or not phase them at all. Staples are cool, but what is even better, is if after they pry them from your head, you get to keep the staples, and bring them to school for show-and-tell. Whatever the injury, for the most part, it usually looks worse then it feels.
To raise a boy is to know full well that you spend WAY too much money on things like toilet paper, rug shampoo, duct tape, Goo Gone, sports equipment, and Ramen Noodles.
I think it is funny how raising boys is seemingly SO different then raising girls. My boys are like freight trains with no brakes, the wake up in the morning, and GO GO GO GO GO until they crash at night like they suddenly run out of steam!
But you know what, I wouldn’t have it any other way! 😉