Boys

There is a club. There is a sorority of mothers with boys and even one for mothers with more than one boy....as I can tell you the dynamics are different with brothers. This is not a club anyone should feel excluded from or pressured into, it's just a look, it's just a knowing look that mothers of boys toss to one another.....
This is not a "boys will be boys" club where everything is listed and dismissed under that category, don't get me wrong and it is not a whoa is me club either (although it does happen).

It's a look from one to another... I know that you have velcro nerf bullets hanging from your Christmas tree and lego pieces AS your carpeting and I know that you have stepped on cars with wings (that hurt) and have learned ALL of the dinosaurs names and mispronounced them as badly as I have, sorry Diplodocus. Your hairbands-sling shots, your couch cushions-forts...

This is a knowing look that even though your five year old boy LOOKS old enough to be able to handle his emotions, he hasn't quite "gotten it" yet and you get frustrated when his fruity bar breaks and he acts like it is THE END OF THE WORLD. This is a knowing look that you have been shopping on THAT side of the store for many years, the side with the "quasi cute" stuff, secretly wishing that you could dress them in colorful polka dots and butterfiles instead of frogs and dumptrucks, c'mon, you know it.
It's a look that shows that you just clotheslined yourself with yet another Spiderman yarn web and your downstairs bathroom should have a skull and crossbones permanently burned into the wood of the door (project for later?)
But then.... there is nothing that warms the heart more when those same little rugrats tell you (and they did last night, really)...that you are pretty and they love/lub you.
"Actually, Mom", J said "You are a princess."
Ah, shucks.

Comments

Popular Posts