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“Were you hoping for a girl??”
“Are you gonna try again for a girl??”
These are the questions I get asked everyday as we navigate through our activities. Our pictures show the beautiful glimpses of our life. The pretty, happy moments that are quite sporadic in between the messy toilets, batman pajamas, runny noses, fingers in noses and hands in pants. Oh the joys of being a boymom! We clean up well for social events, but there are definitely confessions I can share.
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Here are my three reasons you might be pulling your hair out:
1. Underwear Unwanted: Boys do not like underwear, or pants for that matter. They naturally find it more satisfying to throw their pants and undies to the wind whenever outside – not aware of any sort of indecent exposure laws. As soon as I let the boys outside, I’m prepared for them to come in commando. I mean, I guess I can relate if you are in the privacy for your own backyard. I don’t like tan lines, so I’m sorta in understanding. But, unfortunately the same excitement for playing and digging in bare bottoms carries over to parks, yards and friend’s houses. It’s also quite annoying to take your pants on and off when you need to go to the bathroom, so why not just keep them off? Apparently that’s the philosophy boys develop completely on their own. I promise, I did not teach them that this is okay, it’s just their DNA. So, many times you will find my boys running through the house with no pants and no underwear. They love it. I’m desensitized to it now, but I do my best to make sure they are decently clothed before going anywhere.
2. Treasure Hunting: Boys love a good hunt for treasure, especially in their noses. They find it hilarious to say, “mommy, look at me!” As they are sticking their fingers in their nose, waiting for my grossed out reaction. They love to gross Mama out! I’ve tried ignoring this behavior completely, but it so disgusts me I can’t. I’ve tried to explain the germs/bugs concept, but they actually liked that idea and decided they want to get a bug from their nose. I told them no kids want to be friends with nose-pickers, thinking maybe social isolation fear might work, but they could care less. Seriously, I can’t keep their fingers out of their noses, so if you find me ignoring this behavior, swatting at their faces, or pretending not to see it, it’s because it’s a part of my messy reality raising these boys, and I can’t quite find the right, superstar mom response, so I just react in crazy different ways, hoping something will stick.
3. Constant Motion. There is no sitting still. There’s no playing nicely with cars or building with Legos. They are throwing and kicking balls, socks, pillows and anything else they think might be fun to create into a sport. Then they turn to chasing and tackling, which quickly moves into imaginary guns and shooting, back to police cars and speeders. There’s never a natural moment of stillness. If I want them to be still without using some sort of straight jacket or cage, I need to put a show on or give them a sippy cup. Asking them to sit still for a minute is quite comical actually, because it literally looks like they have ants in their pants. Or maybe some kind of electric shock running through their body that causes involuntary movements every 2 seconds. Sitting still turns into rolling on the ground, picking noses (as mentioned above!), wiggling toes and fingers etc.
As a mom of two, toddler boys with another coming soon, I’m totally overwhelmed with the amount of inappropriateness that happens everyday. It’s something you have to just roll with and laugh at. I love my boys, and I am honestly so excited to have another one. It is such a joy to watch Benjamin and Jack play together now, take care of each other and learn with each other. I look forward to putting this little guy into the mix and watching how fascinated and in love with his brothers he’ll be. Its really so special. Mixed in with the fighting and grossness, there really are some very loving and fabulous moments that little boys bring, and it is such a blessing to be a mom of boys.