Boys!

I'm a boy Mom & I had 2 brothers. I've realized lately that to me, this means certain things. I say fart, not toot, poot or gas. As much as you spend on cute, girly clothes & accesories, I spend on food. Seriously. Boys are bottomless pits of energy. This energy comes from the massive amounts of food they consume every hour. I'm also a referee. I have learned that to establish dominance boys will fight to death over a hot wheel, football or pretty much whatever. Luckily it never comes to that.

Boys can learn manners if you start early & often. My boys are not perfect but they know basic manners & use them under threat of the Mom stare. They are always on the hunt. For fun, trouble, food..whatever. Just always on the lookout. A fort will give me exactly 35 minutes of peace. 37 if I can find a flashlight & cookies.  

All boys are tough in their own way. I have a typical tough guy w/ an athletic frame & no fear. I also have a closet tough guy. He seems scared or hesitant until you push him & then you see he's bigger than he seems & tougher than you thought. I have been blessed & sometimes cursed to have the third type. Life has thrown him so many curve balls that he's tougher than any grown man. He's stronger than he thinks & braver than anyone I know.  Together they make the perfect team. Separately they are my one that likes to shop, one that will still cuddle & one that will open up when we drive to get an icee.

Yes, they are messy, crazy, loud, silly, gross & smelly. But they are also sweet, funny, strong, good friends, good brothers & wonderful sons. Sometimes I do envy my friends that have girls & I imagine shopping together, getting pedicures, eating one dinner without a burp or fart. Then I get a HUGE hug that smells like sunshine, sweat, food & boy. I love that smell. I am a boy Mom. I get to build forts, have epic water balloon fights, slap hats on & leave the house in 30 seconds if needed. I'm pretty lucky.

Summer

Over 1 week ago on Saturday on the way to a party our Suburban slowed to a snail's pace, jerked & sputtered violently. It also stared telling me via the electronic computer on the dash to pretty much service everything. We were soon rescued by Norman Frede Roadside Assistance & my friend Kerri. (Thanks Kerri!) On Monday we received a call  that the car would be fixed "soon". Soon was comforting to me since my family of 5 was being forced to commute in a lovely Hyundai Elantra. While grateful to have transportation, in my head I was cursing whoever made this teeny clown car. As the week continued we were we told several things about the car. As soon as they would fix one thing, another would show up. They would fix it, take it for a test drive & it would do the same thing it did the first day. It was frustrating for all of us. We get another car during the 1st week. A Chevy HHR. You would think this had more room right?Nope. Anyway, this whole time we've all been praying the car can be saved. I love my Suburban. Everyone fits, I can haul anything I want, it's a cool color & it's payed off! Most importantly I've learned this week, I feel safe in it. Driving these tiny cars around I can't tell you how many times I was almost hit. Seriously. This crazy lady at Schlitterbahn was driving her HUGE Chevy truck right down the middle of the road, going the wrong way...because she could. She actually looked at me like I was crazy when she almost plowed into us. I did the right thing & walked away since the kids were with me. Plus. She had a wicked long mullet. Never mess with chicks that have mullets. Anyway, the Suburban has been almost completely rebuilt & is ready for pick up "soon". My friend calls it the $6 million Suburban because we bet that's what it costs to repair. The kids are all expecting it to come back looking like Megatron. I think they'll be so happy not to sit on top of each other they won't care.