Apparently I was unprepared to be the mother of boys.
Since my oldest is 5 and a half, you’d think that I’d have gotten the hang of it by now, but clearly, every day is an adventure.
The weird thing is, the more I learn about being the mother of boys, the more I learn to understand my husband.
I know that might sound nuts, but things I’m learning about my children’s development help me have those “ah-ha!” moments about the Super-hubby.
For example, it’s pretty much a given that when I pick my son up from school and greet him with, “how was your day?” I’m going to get this response: “Fine.”
No matter how many specific questions I ask him, I get brief, detail-less responses. It takes the rest of the day for him to slowly reveal the details of the school day.
One day I picked him up and got the standard responses, only to find out about three hours later that the fire truck had come to his school and his class had gone outside to talk to the firefighters and climb on and explore the truck. He said it was the coolest part of his day.
Had he been female, I’m pretty sure he would have told me that detail immediately upon entering the car at the pickup line, especially after I asked, “what’s the coolest part of your day?”
So I’ve really seen how a male brain processes–girls want to divulge details quickly. Boys are a little slower, and details aren’t always necessary.
I’m not always going to get to know what my son had for snack at school that day. It’s not relevant to his immediate need to communicate with me, therefore it’s a detail that goes unspoken.
My hubby operates similarly. It sometimes takes days for him to “remember” some detail of something he wanted to tell me. Like his co-worker is expecting a new baby, for example. Not relevant to his immediate life, therefore it took days for me to find out.
The other thing about boys that I’m having to simply accept is that they are gross. Seriously gross.
They find bodily functions hilarious. What’s up with that??
It doesn’t matter how many times I demand manners or beg for them to stop and act like gentlemen, passing gas is funny to a boy.
My two year old has decided that using “dirty” words is funny. Stinky, gross, smelly, do-do, wee-wee, and dirt are some of his favorites. (These are the dirtiest he can think of, apparently.) And when he really wants to crack himself up, he goes around shouting “Lady GaGa!” Go figure. We’re not fans of hers, so I’ll lump her in with the “dirty” words.
I don’t get it. I don’t get the whole hilarity of bodily functions. It’s one of the things I wonder if I’ll ever get used to. I expect them to have proper behavior in public, but I’m never guaranteed of such things.
In our house, we call passing gas, “a beep.” Silly as that may be, my five year old came up with that when he was tiny and told me one day that his “bottom beeped.”
A few weeks ago I was out shopping with the two year old when an older gentleman stopped us in the parking lot. He said something like, “What a fine looking young man you have!”
“Thank you,” I replied.
The man held out his hand for my youngest to shake and said, “What’s your name, son?”
My little man stuck his hand out and said plainly, “My name is Beeps!” Then he dissolved into giggles.
I had to explain that my son’s name was not Beeps, but I didn’t bother to explain why my little guy had spontaneously decided to introduce himself as such. *sigh*
I’ll continue to expect proper manners, but I think being gross is built into their DNA. I don’t think a man ever outgrows finding certain things funny. Yep, hubby is guilty as charged. *sigh again*
And lastly–boys are insane.
Bodily harm is never a deterrent for them when an adventure is to be had.
Whether it’s climbing the tallest “mountain” in our house (a dresser) or seeing if they can actually jump from the coffee table onto the couch, or seeing how long they can last while shooting each other with nerf darts, a challenge is a challenge, and must be accepted.
We’ve already made a few trips to emergency care. So far we’ve only had a few stitches, but no doubt a broken bone won’t be far off. *double sigh*
And Super-hubby can often be found right in the thick of whatever adventure is being had. I have a “look” I give him when he’s too excited about something that is dangerous. Like blowing up tomatoes with M-80s. Not an adventure I’ll ever be ready for my boys to have.
*I’m tired already.*
Share with me: Mothers of boys–what have you learned about raising sons? Any handy advice? Any crazy stories?