Along with being given three of the most adorable little boys God ever created, I get to experience a whole barrage of things that I never knew came along with having a house full of little men. Moms of boys get to experience things like fingernails that always seemed to be caked with dirt. Socks that will never be clean, no matter how many times they are washed or bleached. Fence boards that have been kicked out while playing “ninjas”. Windshields broken by games of rock baseball and rebar haphazardly tossed into the air. Jeans that seem to magically grow giant holes in the knees after only being worn half a dozen times. Sneakers that are lucky to make it past a month in one piece. Gallons of milk consumed faster than it can be squeezed from the cow. Holes randomly dug all over the yard that serve no purpose. Scars on the bottom of our feet from stepping on Legos that are scattered all over the place like mini land mines. A house that will never be completely clean, no matter how hard I work at it. An entire supply of candles carved into with toys and rendered completely useless. Ornamental trees and shrubs destroyed and ripped to the ground simply because they looked like good climbing trees or the perfect hideout. Walls decorated with crayons, pencils, pens, and my personal favorite, permanent markers. Sticky critter gumball machine toys thrown into the air and stuck to the ceiling. Tubes of toothpaste squeezed into the sink just for fun. Half rolls of toilet paper used for one short visit to the john. And 4 year old carpet that looks like it’s been around for 15.
Even though I have to deal with all of these things and more, the joyful things that my boys give me more than make up for it. In the summer I have a constant supply of handpicked dandelions that fill my kitchen window. I’m given cute little letters and drawings from them expressing their love for me. When they spot little girly treasures on the ground (bows fallen from barrettes, sparkly little jewels, etc) they bring them home for me. Three of the handsomest boys in the world are completely in love with me. And best of all, I get to watch them grow up into men who will someday have their own children and will have to deal with all of the trials and traumas that they put me through.I’m okay with the fact that I may never go to a ballet recital, never play tea party, or never get to bake a princess castle cake for a birthday party. And for all of the joys that my boys bring me, I wouldn’t trade any of them for pink dresses and Barbie dolls. Now please excuse me while I go start yet another load of muddy clothes.
