Living with Little Boys

Every family is different. In this family the boys greatly outnumber the girls. This is a reality that my daughter and I have learned to accept.

Anytime you have three children of the same sex living under one roof, it tends to change the dynamic of the home. Let me explain what it is like having three little boys.

With a house full of boys, the bathroom always smells like urine. With girls your bathroom probably smells too pretty, like lotions, sprays and soaps. Mine smells like it has been hosed down. Because it has.

Have you ever watched little boys use the potty? They never pay attention to their aim. If they turn their eyes to look at something, THAT is exactly where their stream goes.

And no matter how many times you tell them where to find the Lysol wipes, they never use them. They don’t even notice the yellow dripping down the wall. And the shower curtain. And his brother.

Heaven forbid that two of them use the toilet at the same time. Once upon hearing the phrase “Let’s make an X” I ventured into the bathroom to see what was happening.

Horrifying.

While your house full of girls is certainly littered with all of their favorite toys, I am certain that not every single one contains a sharp edge or painful surface.

Little boys play with things that when left on the floor can cause extreme injury to a bare foot. If only I had a dollar for every time I have stepped on a Lego and screamed a swear word, as I crashed to the floor.

My daughter has Barbies with pink dresses and flowing hair. I have never once been injured by a My Little Pony.

If you are sensitive you may just want to bypass this section. When you live in a house full of boys you will never breathe clean air again. Everyone has bodily functions but males embrace them as trophies.

While men have learned that in society it is proper to be discreet, little boys have not.

They will burp and fart every time they can possibly squeeze one out. When they are not burping or farting, they will be talking about burping and farting.

Why I am crudely using the word “fart” you ask? Because no matter how many times I tell them that is isn’t a nice word, it remains their word of choice. Apparently the word is just too hysterical to pass up.

Three little boys sitting in a row. One says “fart”. Three laugh. I am sure grown men would respond in the same way. They are hardwired.

I have a strict no-bodily-functions-at-the-dinner table rule but all this means is that after they do it, they apologize BEFORE they giggle.

With three boys there is usually a constant stream of giggles.

Boys brains are very simple. If they think it, they will attempt it. A team of three boys can come up with some amazingly bazaar stunts. All while their sister is in her room, reading a nice book.

My theory is a boy lives his life trying to break his bones. It is his mother’s job to try and stop him. If you catch a boy about to do something dangerous, it is useless to demanded that he cease and desist. He simply cannot.

Once the plan is in motion it simply must be carried out to completion. Broken bones and all.

My boys are still young. I can only imagine what it will be like when they are teenagers. My guess is pretty much the same but on a bigger scale.

Even with all of this no one will ever love you like a son. Boys may seem simple but their hearts are huge. My daughter and I will forever be princesses. No one is allowed to hurt our feelings or make us sad.

They may live to pester their sister but no one else is allowed to say a cross word to her. If the day ever arrives when her daddy lets her date, you can bet her three brothers will be right there making sure she is being treated respectfully.

Little boys need their mother to be okay. Even from itty bitty boys are wired to take care of mom. Any time I have ever been sad or upset, they were the first ones asking what was wrong. Little boys want to fix whatever is broken.

While it is true that boys go through stages when it is not cool to hug and kiss Mom, that doesn’t mean that they won’t pass you in the hall when no one else is around, and say “I love you Mom” then keep moving. You know that he means it too.

I believe the mother-daughter relationship is complicated and at times challenging, especially as they enter the teen years. I adore my daughter. However I am braced for impact in a few years. I was a teenage daughter once after all.

For now though I will enjoy my three messy, windy, boisterous little stunt men.

You mothers of multiple girls let me know how that is going in a few years.

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