Well, maybe blogging 3 times a week was too big of an expectation to have for myself. Let’s start with once a week.
The good news is, we survived the first week of All the Extracurriculars.
Also, I now have a 7 year old boy in the house.
When I was thinking about writing Israel’s birthday blog post, I tried to think of all the sweet, sappy things I would typically write.
But I just wasn’t feeling that.
SO, I’m going to write about quirky things, instead! Even though I have 3 boys, it wasn’t until recently that I started to feel like a “boy mom.” Ava is just so high maintenance (I think it’s a first child thing) that I had not had time to put a whole lot of thought into the implications of having so many boys. But as they get bigger and rougher and louder, it has been brought to my attention that I am, indeed, a “boy mom.” But then I try to forget about it because the thought is just a little terrifying. I was sure that I would have a house of girls, so that we could reenact Little Women on Saturday nights. I didn’t really grow up with boys, so everything that is happening is new to me.
I guess it validates the saying, “God doesn’t call the qualified, He qualifies the called.”
In other words, I’M WINGING IT.
So here are some peculiarities about boys that I’ve discovered since becoming a “boy mom:”
- LEGOS. The boys love Legos, and I think that’s awesome. I’m not going to pretend to know how it works, but I know that Legos are good for the brain. (I also know that they can occupy my children for large blocks of time. Hallelujah.)So my beef is not with the toys themselves (the prices, however, are a different story.) The peculiarity, to me, is how many series are a spin-off of Legos. Right now, the boys are really into Lego Ninjago. At some point, someone decided to take 4 Lego ninjas with the personalities of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and make a show and book series about them.
A Lego crafted after a show I can understand. But a show crafted after a Lego? I am still scratching my head. And still trying to figure out where to draw the line with such…toy violence?
- EXHIBITIONISM. We are trying to at least teach them not to streak when we have company.
- ALL THE VIOLENCE. I know this is controversial so if you fall into a different school of thought you can cover your ears and say “LALALA.”James Dobson explains in Bringing Up Boys that God places an inner desire within boys to battle. (He explains it so much better, there’s something about a testosterone flood and some other stuff….go read the book!) I definitely see that in my boys, and even though we don’t really have “war toys” (light sabers and bow and arrows don’t count,) everything is all fighting, all the time. I’m still trying to figure out how to balance cultivating a respect for life and proclivity towards peace while honoring their God-given desires that will hopefully someday turn into them being protectors of their families, their faith, and maybe even their country.
- NIGHT-TIME POTTY TRAINING. Israel seems to finally be out of the woods, but I’m wondering if Egan will ever get there. There are some things that can’t be taught, folks.
- COW LICKS. Israel’s whole head is a cow lick. Seriously, if his hair gets much longer than it is in these pictures, he starts to look like a peacock.
- TRANSFORMERS. It’s like the ultimate boy obsession. Not old enough to watch the feature length explosions disguised as movies? Don’t worry, there’s Transformers Prime. Not old enough for the cartoon? Don’t worry, there’s Rescue Bots. Now that I think about it, maybe toy violence isn’t so bad!
Despite the winging it, I think I’m going to really like this “boy mom” thing. I may not have a clue about football or marshal arts or necktie usage, but boys give the best cuddles, and that’s something I understand! I may not have had a lot of experience with boys, but I have been blessed to spend a lot of time with two wonderful men: my dad and my husband. My eldest son shares a lot of personality traits with them both, and I could not have asked for anything better.
Now, if you need me, I’ll be trying to figure out how to get the pee smell out of their couch while wondering how the rubber rat got stuck to the ceiling.