Oh Boy(s)

Oh boy, I am raising three boys. This has presented a few challenges. The biggest problem with bringing up three little men is that, well, I'm a girl!

I have no experience being a boy. I don't understand how they think. I grew up with only brothers but that doesn't even really seem to be helpful.

Boys are gross. They just are. Fuzzy regularly brings his boogers to me on his finger and wants me to take care of it. EWWW, Fuzzy boogers are gross, put it in a kleenex and throw it in the trash. We do not need a show and tell. Fuzzy is also my bug collector and has even tasted a few. Little Bear insists on eating his lunch in three bites or less. I have never seen a little girl chow down like a little boy. Breathe boy, breathe. Wee One is still in the early stages of grossness and it is not as obvious as it is with his brothers.

Boys are weird. Yesterday I was changing Fuzzy's diaper and he had himself a little baby ummm..."tall friend" and was asking about it when Little Bear walked by and informed me that his penis does that sometimes too - when it gets tired of just hanging down all the time and if he plays with it a little bit it does that.....ummm...OK.

Boys are crazy. I have seen plenty of little girls with lots of energy but I'm sorry little ladies you can not compare to the non stop rhythm of a young boy. All day long they go, go, go. I'm down to only one that actually has a nap in the day so there isn't much down time around here. I am completely exhausted with chasing them all day long.

Boys play different than girls too. I have never turned my sandwich crust into any kind of vehicle and drove it around the table making motor noises. It amazes me at how many different items I have seen turned in to cars, trucks, tractors, and airplanes. Geez, it's a sippy cup kid, not a city bus.

Having all boys has some advantages. It is easier to pick out my pink and purple clothes out of the basket of folded laundry. Nobody will be borrowing my clothes or shoes as they get older (well, I guess this isn't really a guarantee but less likely than if I had daughters). We use less toilet paper (no need to wipe when you can shake). Nobody in my household will ever come home and tell me they are pregnant. I don't have to worry about vacuuming up Barbie shoes. There are no crying, peeing, pooping dolls kicking around (just actual kids that do those things).

Raising boys has posed it's share of challenges but it has certainly been entertaining so far as I'm sure it will continue to be. Lord give me the strength to endure. I'm raising three boys, oh boy.

The Destruction Path of a 2.5 Year Old

I live in the destruction path of a 2.5 year old. He is small but he is mighty. He can generate a mess like no other. From the minute he wakes up for the day to nap time and then again from his nap until bedtime he goes non stop. Like a humming bird he flies from mess to mess reeking havoc on my house.

My oldest son never really went through a "terrible twos" stage (though he is making up for it now) so I didn't really expect the insanity associated with raising a 2 year old. I'm scared. Scared that the "terrible twos" are going to last longer than the time he is actually 2. He shows no sign of slowing down.

If anything he is getting worse. Now he has the verbal skills to go along with his physical destruction. "Please help mommy clean up the freshly folded clothes you just pitched out of the laundry basket"
"NO" and takes off running. He's like Tasmanian devil disguised as a cute little puppy dog.

He makes it impossible to discipline him. He flashes "the" grin or says something cute or hugs me and says "I torry mom" and I'm done. He knows he can beat me at this game. He knows that no matter how big a mess he makes or how much he terrorizes his little brother if he uses one of those weapons he will win.

Chasing a 2.5 year old is a full time job. I am always amazed to see what kinds of destruction he comes up with. I can't help but be impressed with how productive he is in a day. He can clear a toy shelf, empty a dresser, throw his breakfast/lunch from his booster seat, clean off the movie rack, toss his brother's toys out the front door, help himself to the contents of the fridge and dump 2 laundry hampers and all before nap time.

Then when bedtime comes he doesn't want to lay down and go to sleep. I'm exhausted from chasing him all day so he should be tired too. I wish. Bedtime is party time. This is evident when he gets up in the morning from a bed with every stuffed animal he owns along with all his tractors/trains/dinky cars in there with him.

He's nuts. He just goes, goes, goes. Living in the destruction path of a 2.5 year old adds spice to my life and will laugh about all this some day...provided he grows out of it that is.