I was a tomboy when I was a kid. I climbed trees, played tag, rode my bike, played football (flag), baseball, and soccer during the long summer days with my friends. Skateboarded every day and tore holes in my dresses from the wheels ripping through them or from falling.
I tore hole after hole after hole in my dresses until my mom finally allowed me to wear shirts and shorts to play in instead.
I also played with dolls but mostly I followed my older brothers around and we dug forts in the ground and made treehouses and got muddy and dirty and had a blast. You would think I would have followed my older sisters around but the boys just seemed to be having lots of adventures and having fun, lol!
So, given my background, you would have thought that I would have been prepared to be the mother of boys.
I didn't mind the snake they brought home but the frog and the lizard and the walking sticks and all the other "pet" insects freaked me out and the gerbils bit me. When the walking sticks multiplied and the itty bitty ones snuck out of the cage and were everywhere, well, that was the subject of nightmares. Ugh!
I didn't mind the boys' collections of rocks and bottle caps and tattoo transfers and pokemon cards, but I dreaded emptying their pockets during laundry days because I never knew what soggy, stinky, sticky thing they might have found fascinating that day.
I didn't mind their occasional habit of chewing bubble gum but I did have to google how to get bubble gum out of hair after my oldest fell asleep with it in his mouth one night.
I didn't mind them having fun and running around but I did feel bad for the trips to the ER that we had to make one year, three weekends in a row!
After that we once again initiated discussions about walking in front of the swing set when other people are swinging, slamming doors on other people's fingers and spinning circles in front of the fireplace.
I didn't mind them learning some independence and "mommy, let me do it" but discovered that a seven year old is not quite as "old" as he thinks he is and that stitches, apparently, are a badge of honor.
I didn't mind them having friends over but I never realized how loud boys having fun could be. My ears are still ringing.
I didn't mind visits to my friend's farm or camping but didn't realize that one child could dirty and go through one pair of jeans, a shirt, socks and shoes every hour upon the hour when it's raining or there's a river or pond nearby. After that I learned to pack at least four clothing changes per child per day.
I didn't mind dirty hands and dirty faces which can be so easily seen and washed but didn't notice those dirty feet until bedtime and those dirty necks which are so easily hidden.
Boys are icky, let's face it. They're messy and muddy and stinky and smelly and obnoxious. ;) They are also wonderful, loving, funny, smart, adventurous, courageous, kind, compassionate, focused, wise, hard workers and take good care of mommy!
All those traits of a boy that moms just shake their heads over are what turn them into wonderful, kind, loving, strong men who make wonderful husbands and loving fathers! Who knew?
God did! ;)
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