A boy’s best friend is his mother.
There is nothing in this world that could have prepared me for motherhood. But even moreso becoming a mother to a boy.
Being a mom for ten years before my son was born, I thought I knew a thing or two.
My son being born, that wiped that slate fresh and clean and started me off new.
Then with the acquisition of another manchild, dear God what have I gotten into?
Little boys. You love them to no end. They indeed steal your heart. But they drive you crazy at the same darn time. At least mine do. Let me speak for me. You tell me if you agree.
While raising my daughter was a challenge in and of itself at times, I could relate to most things. Well at least some.
But with these darn boys?
There are just some things I will never get use to being a momma of boys.
My boys do things that my daughter just didn’t and doesn’t do. She is pretty mellow. A lover and not a fighter. She plays nice, and gets along. Those things were never our issues.
But maybe it is just my two boys. But the two of them fight like an old married couple who should have gotten divorced a year in. They will be madly in love one minute and then fighting over whose leg is on who, the next.
It is not uncommon for my husband to take one and leave one, or vice versa. Because if you dare take both, somebody might not make it back.
Then there is the jumping off furniture. I can not tell you how many times I have told my little to stop jumping. Off the couch. Off the bed. Pretty much off whatever is high enough to make him feel like he should test if he could end up on both feet. Or if he can make a bang.
Which leads me to my next point….
The amount of noise the dudes make is unreal.
I am pretty mellow. I love to curl up on the couch with my computer, a book, or nothing at all and enjoy the peace and quiet.
When it was just my daughter, that was not a problem. She either followed suite and snuggled up next to me. Or she would go do her own thing. Either way she was never like Ludacris, disturbing tha peace. Might I tell you that I typed “the” and google suggested “tha”. Even google knew how the songs goes. Yes google get me all the way together…lol.
My boys, whether it is that they have the TV on full blast, sounding like they are deaf and never cleaned their ears. Or that they have their video games on full blast. They make too much darn noise.
That is not even accounting for the fact that they sound like they are gonna come through my ceiling whenever they are upstairs. I am seriously thinking they may need a basement room in our next home. For serious.
There is never a doubt when they have awaken for the day. YOU WILL KNOW. Soon as their eyes open, there is noise to be made.
Oh and every boy momma across all lands will feel me on this.
Boys are just nasty.
From picking boogers, to farting all the time, at any time. They are just gross.
The other day I was sitting on the couch and one of them ( I won’t put him out there and tell you which), was laying on the floor next to me playing his tablet. I hear what sounded like loud wind, but no one said a word.
I said, “dude did you just let loose?”
Kid you not, without so much as looking up away from him tablet or blinking an eye, he casually responded, “yea”….. “Excuse that”.
I wanted to fight him.
The day before that, the other one sat at the dinner table and had a whole conversation about boogers and how his friend eats them, and tries to put them on him. ALL WHILE WE ATE. And with laughing involved.
And finally, if either one of these dudes leave evidence of not wiping, be it in the toilet that they chose not to flush, or in their underclothes, I am gonna scream!
Some may say they learn it from they nasty daddy’s. But I have to say my hubby is actually not a nasty man. He is very clean, and very discrete about all that other jazz.
I hope there is still a chance that they grow up and be like him. Leaving their wives to be blown away with their little external hearts (children) that they can’t help but love. Because be it not for the love I have for them, they would need a new residence with all their tom-foolery.
I can get over the fact that I can’t keep the house clear of all their toys. But all this other stuff, ya girl is struggling.