Today I had the all to rare opportunity to hang out with some of my dearest friends for lunch at Chili's. As I sat back and observed the different personalities surrounding me I quickly placed them in two categories...those raising boys and those not raising boys. It was quite obvious to me the differences. Next to us was a table with our darling children happily coloring and wiggling and making odd noises. Those without boys were quick to notice the odd noises coming from the adjoining table while the mothers of boys seemed blissfully unaware that one of the testosterone driven types fashioned a mega phone out of his placemat and went happily about grunting and growling at the passers by.
I can remember being relatively young like in High School and having a conversation with God. I was basically puting in my "order". I wanted to have four children, three boys followed by a baby girl. You see, I had five brothers myself. Four of which were older than me and I just thought they were the funniest people I'd ever met. They were so intriguing to me and also, quite protective. I wanted the same thing for my daughter should God choose to bless me with one. So, when I became pregnant for the fourth time I just knew it was going to be a girl. I had even purchased some little pink outfits and had the nursery all planned out.
Now that I am a mother of three wild, noisy little dudes of my own I have come to the conclusion that there are two ways to parent them...
1) Be completely horrified, terrified, mystified, grossed out, overwhelmed and exhausted.
2) Or like my darling friends...Be completely amused and infatuated and frankly, in a constant state of AWE. (All the above still come with this package by the way but not quite as frequently)
I consider it an honor that God thought I could handle this great responsibility. Raising boys is definately not for that faint of heart. They come with a lot of strange smells and odd sounds and hair raising, death defying acitvities. I don't think they have any respect for gravity whatsoever. As a mother of boys you must accept the fact that trips to the ER are going to be a fairly common occurence. You must appreciate bodily function humor and not get queasy at the dinner table when, inevitably, the conversation turns that way. Along with all of that comes a lot of sweetness too. They are naturally protective of their Mama's and they wanna be just like their Daddy's. They are also good to have around when giant mutant spiders jump out of the closet.
I've heard a phrase at church that has been thrown around a lot recently. "It stole their joy" A good friend and mentor of ours out in California (Our sweet Ben Evans) corrected us on that. He said "Nobody, no situation or circumstance can STEAL your joy. You give it away" No where in my life has that been more true than now. When my boys are hanging upside down at the dinner table or running through the house pretending to be spider men, I have two choices...I can either give my joy away by scrunching my shoulders up around my ears and squishing up my face or I can watch in wonderment the incredible creation of BOYS! What was God thinking?