Wednesday, June 29, 2011

The Misfits of youth.

My husband comes from a family of 4, a perfect 2 child ratio, one boy and one girl.  I, on the other hand come from a family of 5. Three girls making up the brood with me, the youngest, the "unplanned" one. Which is OK, it has always made me feel like I entered the world without permission in an unbridled  manner.  Me and my husband, much like my parents, thought we were done at 2. Unknown to me, whilst I was proclaiming my inability to parent more than 2 children, I was actually pregnant with my 3rd boy!
It was about a week ago when me, Matt and the kids were driving along in our 5 passenger blazer, and Gabe found a brand new box of wipes.  He proceeded to pull each wipe out one by one and hand them to our youngest so he could then stuff each one into his underwear.  These are normal shenanigans that me and Matt have now become more than used to in our house or car, or anywhere that our boys happen to be.  After I threatened them within an inch of their life me and Matt went on with our conversation.  My husband has always been more amazed at the stupidity of our boy's actions than I have.  I was about to find out why.  "I never remember doing such stupid crap with my sister growing up" Matt says.  My reply is first a laugh because of a memory triggered by his statement.  Then I begin to enlighten him about all the dumb ass things me and my sisters did growing up.  First, may I say I do not condone any of these behaviors and am deeply sorry to my mom and dad for all the wrinkles we caused them.  My first memory of anything stupid we did was when I was about the age of 5 or 6.  Growing up a missionary kid, I have many memories of staying in random places and this was one of those times.   I believe we were staying in a small "camp" type room with bunk beds, very minimal yet efficient.  My parents were probably off taking care of some type of important business or something and left us 3 girls to fend for ourselves.  All I remember is we got bored pretty quick and decided it would be cool to see what our underwear did when we threw it up at the ceiling fan while it was running.  So about 15 pairs of panties later, a fan that was probably on the verge of breaking down and all of us  satisfied with laughter,  mom and dad were back.  I was a baby when this next story took place and like most babies don't remember anything past a few years old.  My parents were going through missionary training and apparently left Carissa and Desiree in a separate area from where they were.  Being the lovely Cherry girls they were, they thought the best place for some rocks and sticks they gathered was the toilette.   Not only was this a wise place to shove their treasure but also a great place to completely discard it.  With one flush of the toilette they quickly found out that they would not be the only ones involved in the little adventure.  The stories go on and on and on and on.  Stories of throwing a box worth of tissue paper one by one out the window while we were driving. Stories of my oldest sister chasing the two of us younger ones around the house with a knife.  Also let me not forget to mention the time we managed to tear down all of the ceiling fabric in our old station wagon, it just seemed like a good idea at the time.  So my conclusion to why me and my sister seemed to be such terrors brings me back to after our 3rd was born.  The earth shook that day and hasn't stopped since.  I guess the saying is true, the third time is a charm.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Animals aren't kids!

I have always thought everyone needs a kid even if its for a month or so, to help put things in perspective.  I know people that say they have kids,  referring to their animals..."Yes we have 5 kids; 3 of them are dogs and 2 horses".  Even when I didn't have kids I knew for a fact that my animals were no where near being kin to a child.  For instance I don't think its good sense to put your kid in a kennel, people have tried that before and it never ended well for them or the child.  Also I would never put a leash on my kid, scratch that, I might put a leash on my kid but it would be cute, like in the shape of a monkey or something. Plus my kids don't even like my cooking half the time so obviously they wouldn't go for a bowl of kibble. When I hear people talk about their animals being "their kids" I so badly want to ask them " is the birthing process for a dog or kitten coming out of the vagina, as opposed to a 9 lb. baby?".  No but in all seriousness I really do think some should have the experience of parenthood even if they aren't planning on having kids of their own.  I never realized how much motherhood could change a person until I looked deep into the white shiny toilet that surrounded my sweaty face as I hurled my guts up with "morning sickness".  I certainty wasn't prepared for the pain of labor.  Or being up so much at night with the baby, that should only happen to owls or raccoons.  All the pain and all the sleepless nights cannot compare to the shift of focus that occurs when you hold your first born.  Suddenly it's not about you.  Now its about giving up your own life to do anything for this creature, to be anything for this creature. Its an amazing relationship that compares to no other.  I remember about a month after Owen was born, I called my Mom and told her sorry for any grief I caused her.  I told her that mothers deserve a gold plaque held up for all the world to see.  I'm not tooting my own horn, being that I am a mother myself. Because as most moms are aware of, none of us actually believe we are great moms to begin with.   Whether you think of yourself as great or not, you know what it takes to be a parent and that it cannot be compared to anything else.  So I salute all you moms and dads out there, young and old.  P.S. if your are reading this and you would like to borrow my children for a month or two, my fees are low and I am quite certain you wont be calling your pets children after your experience.

Monday, June 20, 2011

The Boys Club.

We are magnets to each other, we can spot each other from a mile away, the dark circles under the eyes, the ears that hear the sounds but don't respond. The strong will that drives us on to be tougher than nails and yet softer than a well broken-in blanket, these are the MOB women otherwise known as Moms of Boys.
I was at the gym today, dropping my boys off so I could work out. As I am waiting in line, watching all the chaos that surrounded me, my boys are trying to open the automatic doors that had caution signs strung across them. I was observing the different mom's, some were obvious new timers with the baby that is happy as they pass them off, but the mom looks jaded with worry and guilt as she lets her kid go to a stranger (I never seem to have this problem anymore, I would happily hand my kid to a bum on the street if it meant I could have an hour of alone time). I hear behind me the same type of ruckus I am well accustomed to, so I turned my head to see a sight my eyes long to see. A mom of three boys is standing right behind me. I look her up and down a few times, to see if she is the kind of woman that would talk openly to a perfect stranger. Judging from her warm look and smile; a stark contrast to her 1 yr old screaming in her ear drums, I thought..."yes". I caught her eye and asked "3 boys too?" (trust me when you have 3 boys that's all you ever have to say), to which she responds "OH...yes." Looking at my brood and the fact I am still alive and speaking she asked me a few questions and we went our separate workout ways.
I always have an odd sense of satisfaction when I am able to talk to Mom's that have 2 or more boys. Mothers that have more than three, basically have a rock star status in my eyes. I have a special place in my heart for a woman I met about 5 yrs ago that had 6 boys and on her 7th child finally had a girl. Not to mention two of those boys were twins! She is one of the coolest chilled out ladies I have ever met, all her kids are grown now, but she could probably ride the Mom of the year award for a long time after her kids have their own children. Anyways there is a special connection that women have when we realize we aren't alone in this thing called parenthood. For me I love to see other moms that have boys and still survive to keep breathing and loving.
Most moms of boys are not skittish about their kids obsession with their genitalia, poop and anything else that can sound gross. Any mom of boys can tell you the kids love to live in their underwear!!! Little boys inherently love to have little to no clothing on as often as possible. Last but not least is the constant need to hurt each other or themselves for stupid ass reasons. Just use your imagination. If you can get past the gross parts of raising boys and continue to find time to still feel like a woman then you should be just fine.