Boys

As most people know, I am the oldest of 5 girls. Girls ran strong on both sides of the family tree so we mostly had girl cousins who we played with. I had a few guy friends in High School most us whom were dancers, so they didn't really qualify as macho men. I dated lots of guys through my high school and college years who I would classify as gentlemen. I was completely naive when it came to boys and their wiring.

When I started seriously dating Brett there were times when he was either around his brother or other close guy friends that his sense of humor really bugged me. I found their jokes crude and very UN-funny. I did not get them at all. Over time I learned to ignore them and slowly, ever so slowly, I would maybe crack a smile, but mostly I just rolled my eyes.

I remember hearing horror stories of how Brett, at age 5, took a hammer to his grandmas piano and chipped most of the keys. He did the same thing with his fist to her glass coffee table. At 10 he accidentally hit his brother with a baseball in the eye. While serving time in his bedroom for his ill deed, he got it trouble again because he was up there singing his little heart out without a care in the world.

As Brett and I began our own little family we were blessed with not one, not two, but three sweet little girls. They spent their early childhood playing dress-up, ponies, barbies and everything girlie. They played in cute little Laura Ashley dresses and jumpers and always had a big pretty bow to match. Favorite books included Little Lily's Purple Plastic Purse, Twelve Dancing Princesses and Rumpelstiltskin. They entertained each other for hours and really didn't get into to much mischief.

A few years later the Lord blessed us with one, then two, then three strapping boys. The girlie world that I knew and loved was forever altered. They welcomed me to the world of cars, trucks, action figures, dinosaurs and Lego's, thousands of little tiny Lego's. Let's not forget to mention insects, dirt, constant holes in socks and pants, burping and stitches! Favorite books included: There's A Nightmare In My Closet, No David, Big Bad Bully-Bug, Frank was a Monster who Wanted to Dance. I remember being totally embarrassed when one of my little 2 year old boys, while sitting on Grandma's lap, put his hands right on her bosom. She'd gently move them away, and back they came. "Don't worry, boys just come this way," she would say. What?! Are you kidding me?

Now that I've been doing the little boy thing for 8 1/2 years, I can honestly say, they do come this way. Most of their conversations have the words pee, poop, fart, or in Samuel's terms "stinky diaper head". Just two days ago Samuel came in and announced proudly, "Hey Mom, I just peed outside!" They like to take off their shirts and make farting sounds with their hands in their arm-pits. They get a kick out of opening the second floor window and dropping action figures out who in their eyes splat spilling out blood and guts. Joseph used to walk around with butter knives tucked in his onesie. They aspire to be ninjas, "good guys" and in Matthew's case, a great composer. They are learning that physical force is not an acceptable form of communicating. Brett just found a handful of otter pop wrappers shoveled into the front of his radiator. On the way to swimming Friday Joseph who was instructed to put his seat belt on decided that it would be easier to loop it around his waist than to click it in place. When we got to the pool everyone jumped out running towards the pool. Joseph started crying, "Mom, I'm stuck!" The harder we pulled the tighter it got. He had taken off his trunks thinking it would help. He was starting to panic, so I ran into the office grabbed some scissors and ran back to cut the seat belt. "Thank you mom, you're the bestest mom in the whole world (world, pronounced with no "r")."

Who are these people? They can be naughty, but are as equally loving. They are generous with compliments and hugs. I love these boys, they continue to teach me each and every day. So grateful they are mine.