An Introduction: Just my kind of crazy

When people look at me in public and see four little boys in tow, the interactions that follow are so consistent they almost seem scripted…  

-Oh, wow!  Are they ALL boys?

Yes.

-Oh, my goodness, FOUR boys!  You are so brave!

No.

-Oh, Mama!  You certainly have your hands full!

Yes!  My hands, my home, and my heart!  But the fridge is, most assuredly empty.

-FOUR!  Don’t you two know what causes that!?

We do.  But we like it and we’re good at it so we haven’t stopped yet.

-Wow!  That is a LOT of testosterone!  You are outnumbered, lady!

It is.  I am.  And I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Even when we look at things online or in social media we see messages like “Boys: noise with dirt on it.”  We see t-shirts that say things like “Support wildlife – raise a boy” or “You can’t scare me, I have boys”.  In a world where there is such a negative tone about boys – I’m here to tell you… I was BLESSED to be a boy mom.  I was born to be a boy mom.  I will be protected by handsome men for the rest of my days.  And I LOVE being a boy mom!

Loud, Dirty, and Active

Every spring, after a long winter in the house together, and after our sweet boys have become comparable to sharks in a fishbowl, one of my favorite sights is that of a dirt ring around our bathtub.  Why?  It means a few things in our house.  First, it means that winter is over and we can now prepare for long, warm days of fun.  Second, it means they’ll be outside more and making messes inside less.  And, finally, it means they will FINALLY be able to wear themselves out so well that they want nothing more than to come inside in the evenings and snuggle their mom.

As I write this post, my boys are ages 7, 5, 3, and 1.  We have received new babies as frequently as our phones were due for upgrades.  I started Law School when our oldest was 6 months old.  Halfway through my first semester we found out we were expecting our second.  Our third was born about five months after I graduated.  And we discovered my fourth pregnancy about six months before sitting for the Bar Exam… for the third time.  Having four babies at various stages in my legal education has certainly slowed down the progression of my career and thrown me some occasional roadblocks in my journey to my law license.  Need proof?  My FOURTH and final attempt at the Bar Exam is coming to a blog space near you in February, 2021.  It’s hard.  It’s messy.  It’s a constant balancing act.  But when I was younger I knew I wanted three major things out of life: 1.  A husband who loves me and supports me, unconditionally (check!); 2. Children (quadruple check!); and 3. A license to practice law (work in progress).  When others have either asked the question or done the math about how I got my law degree and at what stages our children were born, I’m told I’m a “warrior”, I’m “amazing”.  I don’t feel that way at all.  I just feel like I have been given the opportunity for every BIG thing I’ve ever wanted out of life – and I’m not willing to let any of those opportunities go unaccepted.

In the past seven years of being a mother to these crazy, wonderful, affectionate, adventurous boys, I have discovered a few truths.  Our boys are loud.  Our house is loud.  Our life is LOUD – in all the best ways.  Our guys do everything outLOUD.  They play loud – whether they be roaring dinosaurs, amazing superheroes, brave public servants, or speedy race cars.  They can be engineers and give each other the step-by-step of their creative and building process or they can demolish a wooden block tower and be their own wrecking ball.  They sing loud.  They love everything from Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby to Veggietales Silly Songs to Queen to Imagine Dragons and all the way over to The Piano Guys.  Their musical range never fails to amaze me (and speak to my soul because I am a fan of many of those people as well).  Yes, they argue loudly, too.  The arguments don’t happen as frequently as I expected them to, but it happens, and are usually followed up with, “I’m sorry I yelled.  I just need a break from you for a little bit, I think.  Can we separate?”  But my favorite thing they do and do it LOUD?  They love SO loud!  They hug tight, they kiss hard, they snuggle long, and they yell their love LOUD.

Our boys are also, certainly, dirty.  Like dirty in a way I’ve never experienced before this season of my life.  Nothing has reinforced this observation more than this pandemic we are in.  Our family has tried our best to do our part and stay at home.  We have a bed of pea gravel (because when you have everything else, you don’t want SAND on top of it), we have a small chunk of land that has provided us plenty of space, and we have a long driveway that has acted as a GREAT racetrack for our little speedsters and their bikes (or scooters, or skateboards).  With all of this comes dirt, blood, sweat, and a few tears.  Since March, we’ve used up a total of SIX family-size boxes of bandaids.  Our first aid drawer in the kitchen (yes, we have a drawer) is constantly opened and closed and opened again.  My greatest tools to fight the grime (and occasionally bloody nose) are magic erasers, microfiber towels, and a mix of dish soap, vinegar, and water.  Every evening our tub has to be washed down and rinsed out because there is an ever-present dirt ring around it.  Our floors are vacuumed at least three times, daily.  Our dishwasher is always running.  And this year we had to replace our washer and dryer because the old ones cracked under the pressure.  We have boys, chickens, and a dog to contend with in this house.  There are bugs.  There are “beautiful” rocks.  There are buckeyes from the tree in our yard.  There is dirt and compost from the garden.  But there’s SO MUCH FUN!  The dirt, to me, is more a sign that they’re building great immunities and making awesome childhood memories and learning amazing things about nature (this year’s favorite was hatching a butterfly from a caterpillar found in our own garden).  But once they’re grown, every scar will have a story. And my house can be clean and museum-like when they’re gone.  For now, I’m just happy they are learning and growing and playing every. day.

If you’ve made it this far, you are probably one of the millions of moms out there looking for some witty wisdom, someone who can tell you that life with multiple boys is peaceful and serene, a place that might have just ONE of the answers you’re looking for, or any combination of the above.  Although I would love to tell you that the wisdom I have is well-documented by numerous reputable parenting experts and can be funny all at once –  I can’t tell you that.  I would also love to assure you that you can have a quiet and clean home while boys live under your roof… You’ll soon realize, I’m probably not your gal.  As far as answers, I’ve got suggestions… for some of your questions… and, while they’ve worked here, they may not work there.  We’re shooting from the hip with ours and yours are probably completely different in their own beautiful way!  What I CAN give you is someone relatable, chronicles of boy craziness and our survival of it, and stories of personal experience and the way we did it.  Ultimately, the best thing I can tell you today – You were made their mom for a reason.  You are BLESSED to be a boy mom.  God knew what he was doing when he gave them to YOU.  And you’re probably rocking it!  Especially when you feel like you aren’t.  I don’t know about you, but this “boy mom” life of ours – it’s just my kind of crazy, and I couldn’t love it more.