Category Archives: You Know You Are A Mom Of Boys When

A Picture Day Miracle

Charlie put on jeans and a button up shirt for picture day on his own. Like, he decided to wear it.

Yes, this is a monumental moment. Since this day years ago, what Charlie wears has always been one of those parenting struggles I avoid at all cost.

He came down the stairs and I was shocked. You know how you don’t want to startle a squirrel? So you just stand there and pretend you don’t see it while looking out of the corner of your eye? Don’t move, don’t say anything, don’t frighten him away lest he scurry back upstairs and change into sweat pants and a mismatched t-shirt.

I just stood there. “Good morning.” Not too cheery, not to mundane. Just right. You see, if he thinks I’m too cheery, he will know that I noticed his attire. If I say it too mundane, he will think I didn’t notice at all.

Walk on egg shells, much?

“Is this ok for picture day?!” he asked proudly. This was my invitation to encourage him on his good choice. The wind was blowing in just the right direction. “I think that’s an excellent choice! I love it!” I reply with a smile.

“I thought you would.” he says, rather smugly, but with a smirk.

WAIT. He thought of me? He thought about what I might want him to wear on picture day? What is this thing? What is happening?

My well-dressed-child-without-a fight dreams are coming true. But I won’t hold my breath. Next weekend we have a family wedding to attend. And God only knows which direction the wind will be blowing on that day.

For now, I’ll give my adorably dressed squirrel a hug before he scurries away. Or bites me.

And no, I do not have a picture. Are you kidding me? Rule number one around skiddish squirrels on picture day, no flash photography. Does that sentence even make sense? Of course not. Parenting rarely does.

Could my kids BE any different?

My two youngest boys both made a Halloween craft at school.

 When they came home and decided to eat them, one of them did this:

While the other did this:

And then decided he’s save the sucker for another time.

These boys could not possibly be any more different.

Pefect Boy Snack: Dirt Cups! {dairy free!}

 Our middle son, Chase’s, birthday was last week. I wanted to send a fun treat in for his Cub Scouts meeting. There was one snag, though, one boy had a dairy allergy. So I asked my Twitter friends for some ideas. I wanted to make dirt cups, but figured pudding and oreos would be full of dairy. Then @ryles chimed in with wonderful news! You can make dirt cups dairy free! Who knew?

Oreos are dairy free. Just buy name brand Oreos! (I had no idea!)
Pudding mix: The JELLO brand is dairy free.
I used coconut milk to make the pudding.
Gummy worms are dairy free.

Of course the ingredients are full of all kinds of other awful not good for you things, but it’s dairy free!  🙂

There really isn’t a recipe here. Mix the pudding mix with your choice of milk as directed on the box. Cover with finely crushed oreo cookies. Squish some gummy worms into the dirt.

A perfect treat for little boys!

You Know You Are A Mom Of Boys When…Birthday Card Love

My precious middle child, Chase, is turning eight years old today. To celebrate, he had a friend stay the night last night. His friend gave him this card:

I asked his friend to explain the drawing. He said, “Well, that’s Chase and that’s me. And that’s me throwing a guy that Chase doesn’t like into a brick wall.”

I must have looked slightly horrified because my husband chimed in, “That’s how boys show love. He’s a really good friend.”

And Chase and his friend agreed that if you are a good friend, you are willing to throw bad guys into brick walls for each other.

Can someone please help me escape the Boy Planet I’m stuck on? I don’t seem to speak their language.


You Know You’re A Mom of Boys When…Things You Say

You know you are a Mom of boys when you hear yourself saying things like this:

“Please take your brother’s underwear off your head and give them back.”

“Because it’s gross to eat while you are on the toilet, that’s why!”

“I’m not sure. I don’t have one of those. You’ll have to wait and ask Daddy.”

“No, it’s not wasteful to wash your underwear every day. Go ahead and change them.”

And last but not least:

“Would you please cover that thing up.”

Note that these are all bathroom and private part related.

This is my life, people.

You Know You’re A Mom of Boys When…Undergarments Edition

Yes, the title alone should warn you about this one.

I walked through the department store underwear aisle with my children.

My three boy children.

The questions. The comments. The oh dear God don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh moments.

Chase: What are panties?

Charlie: Duh, they are girl underwear. It covers their…YOU KNOW. (inappropriate pointing to private parts)

Charlie: Mom, these bra things, they are to cover your nibbles right? And the hold up those boob things?

Me: Yes, Charlie, but let’s save private questions for when we are at home please. *turns and chuckles*

Charlie: (holding up a bra) Mom, this one is really squishy. Like a pillow boob!

Chase: Mom, is 3x the biggest these come in?

Chandler: Mom, pleeeeeease let’s go now.

Me: I think Chandler is right, we should go.

You Know You’re a Mom of Boys When: Girls? Who Needs ‘Em?!

I was at Chandler’s baseball game and I saw this vision from heaven.

It was a little girl. About eight years old.

She was running and jumping, her shiny brown hair swinging in the wind.

She looked just like Chase. The sparkling eyes. The perfect freckled face. The dimples. Oh my heavens the dimples.

The ever adorable thing we call Chase.

I sat there and thought what a gorgeous little girl we could make.  Did we mess up? Should we have tried again for a girl?! What have I done?!

And then she turned to the other little girl she was playing with and said,

“I am SO over you.”

And then she rolled her eyes.

And huffed loudly.

And swung that hair like it was weapon as she walked away.

I looked at Chandler, spitting in the outfield.

I looked at Chase and Charlie, punching each other in the face on the playground.

And all those thoughts went away.

The end.

You Know You’re a Mom of Boys When: Overhead on a Saturday

You know you are a Mom of boys when you overhear these snippets of conversations on a Saturday afternoon and you are not concerned:

“Give him a rifle, it makes him look more evil.”

“Mommmm! Would you please tell him that this is an alien ship and not a dead human ship!!”

“I am the doctor of master mind powers…everyone better bewaaaaare!”

“Should I be scared of my brother, even if he is a human being?”

“Throw him in the sea of dead persons!”

“Don’t worry, burnt eye balls can be fixed by doctors.”

“Since he’s my brother, I can eat him alive. I’ll start with his cheeks.”

“Eat his brain! Eat his brain! Eat his brain!”

This post brought to you by Legos. The toy that makes my sweet boys turn into evil mind controlling alien ship building cannibals.

You Know You’re A Mom of Boys When…Purse Edition

I think you can tell what gender children someone has by looking in the mother’s purse.

I imagine moms of girls have things like lip gloss, hair barrettes, unicorns, rainbows and sunshine in their purses.

I’m a mom of boys. My purse is like an artillery storage bag.

I know how to spell artillery and what it is. Also another way to know I’m a mom of boys.

Yesterday I cleaned out my purse.  You know I’m a mom of boys because I was not at all surprised to find this:

 Of course there is the obligatory jet, a matchbox car, a cough drop (For the sudden man cold urges that my oldest suffers from. thanks Daddy for teaching him the ways of the man cold!) and the obviously necessary Star Wars Lego toy. Also, a battery. Because you never know when you will need one, folks.

Not shown: wipes even though we are no longer in diapers (boys = wipes. duh.), granola bar wrappers (sorry, that was mine), lip gloss (also mine, if you recall, I am a girl) and crumbs. So many crumbs.

What would I find in your purse?

You Know You’re A Mom of Boys When…

You say, “Say that again, I couldn’t hear you over all the farting.”

And then they do. 

And no one laughs.

Because it was truth.