BOYS!

I am the mother of sons. 

I imagined motherhood differently. 
I pictured neatly organized play things and doing crafts together. 
I purchased new carseats with the intention of keeping them clean. 
I still believe that short-sleeved shirts, long-sleeved shirts and pants should each have their own drawer and go in neat piles - but unless I want to do everything myself, that's not the usual result.
I most certainly never thought my kids would leave the house in mis-matched clothes or with bedhead!
And it never even crossed my mind that anyone of my offspring would consider using anyplace but the bathroom for "bodily functions".
I used to always vacuum my way out of the house each time we left for more than a day, so that everything was tiptop when we came home. 

But my reality is this:
Sometimes I sniff out dirty clothes stuffed into a little Hotwheels suitcase and stowed in the closet (is that any less work than putting them in the laundry room?)
Sometimes I find a toothbrush on the floor next to the toilet in the boys' bathroom, and NO ONE knows how it got there.
I recently found a frog in my dishes rinse-water bowl as we were camping - his name is Freddy and apparently I frightened him with my screams.
One of my children chose to forego the modern plumbing and poop behind our camper - "just because".
I have a plethora of tiny scars on my feet from stepping on Lego pieces. 
Instead of using all 3 dresser drawers to sort clean laundry, one of my children chose to shove so much into only ONE drawer that the bottom eventually popped out. 
I have a son who likes to unscrew all the drawer handles from furniture, and then forgets where he puts the handles.
Saying the word "bum" in our home will result in uncontained laughter and I might as well forget any serious converation for at least an hour.
One of my sons has a serious aversion to clothing.  He is now 6 and we can be sure he will have pants on when we leave the house - but socks, shoes and underwear are still optional.  When caught without underwear (again), he usually says, "I don't need any today.  These pants stay up without them!"
After I have approved what everyone is wearing before church, my boys have ran back down and put on something else entirely - which I won't notice till we're all in the pew.  It's possible that once or twice the changed shirt had a skull and crossbones on it. 
One of my sons poured out his blue raspberry slurpy on the floor of the van just because he was done and "didn't know where to put it."

This is only the tippity-top of my iceberg. 
I have had a few people suggest a good beating or some solitary confinement on a regular basis.  But I had a grandma who raised 8 sons, and gave me the best advice even when I only had 1 son.  "He's a boy!  This is normal!" 
The things that really get me worked up are selfishness, lying, being unkind, disrespect and other character issues - but not so much the every day details.

I look back almost 12 years ago to who I was and what got me bent out of shape before I had my first son, and I look at who I am now with 3 sons (in addition to our daughter) and I see a huge difference in myself. 
Yes there's a lot of high-pitched shrieking that happens here - and loud instructions like, "Get off of him, he can't breathe!" or "That's really gross, go wash your hands!"  But overall - I appreciate the new flexibility and tolerance that Father has developed in me. 

Yesterday Dean and I crouched down in front of our boys and demanded to know who had relieved themselves beside the truck at our campsite.  "It's okay to go to the bathroom outside if you can't make it to the bathroom, but it's not okay to lie about it."  I guess that sums up my attitude towards parenting boys. 
And I have a new favorite Scripture verse: If any of you who lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally.  James 1:5   I REALLY like the "liberally" part, because in mothering boys I don't feel that just a little bit of wisdom will do me.

There was absolutely no one that warned me one of my boys would pee down their bedroom register to see where it would go. 
No one reminded me to watch the air conditioner in summer because my 5 year old would unscrew every single bolt and lift the protective screen off, reach inside, pull out his toy - all while the air conditioner was running and the blades had just shut off for a few moments.
Nothing in my prenatal classes, or early childhood education classes, or my education degree courses prepared me for a little personality that would take off at the Calgary zoo when he was 2 years old - and be returned smug as could be because he got to hold the hand of a park ranger.
When my friend rolled her van with my 2 youngest sons inside, I pulled up to the scene ready to comfort and console my frightened boys.  But I found them completely ecstatic to have all the emergency vehicles and officers around.  The lights and sirens had made this "the best day ever!"

My boys LOVE fire - and making campfires.  This morning - warm as it was - found my oldest boy stuffing the firepit with chopped lumber.  I stepped out of the camper and he called out, "Mom, is this a bonfire yet?" 

Don't get me wrong - I still have my standards, and am digging my heels in, completely determined to raise godly gentlemen. But I refuse to destroy my sons' individuality, or my relationship with them in order to have my organized and "just so" house and family.  I still have to remind myself of this regularly. 

The amazing this is, that all this "boyishness" has become precious to me.  I value my dignity and composure less, and my time with my sons more.