Raising boys

Raising Boys

Have I ever mentioned that when my husband called my mother at 4:30 A.M. to tell her that our first-born son was born she said, "Don't worry. You can try for a girl next time"? Yeah, well...that's how Helen rolled. In my family, girls were definitely the preferred sex. My mother also used to say that motherhood didn't count if you only had boys. Well, I'm here to set the record straight.

Not only does it absolutely count, but it takes a certain kind of person to raise boys. You have to be strong, thick skinned, deaf, strict, independent, creative, peaceful and rational. I was none of these things before giving birth to two of the most needy boys ever conceived.

I will outline for you the reasons why these particular characteristics are imperative to bringing up boys.

Strong: Because your strength will come in handy when your son greets you by jumping from the top of the staircase, onto your back (while you're at the bottom of the staircase bending over to pick up a laundry basket).

Thick Skinned: Because your sons will inevitably remind you of your problem areas. In other words, my sons like to sing, "Mommy's got a big ol' butt, oh yeah". Which sucks, because out of all my body parts, my butt is the one that I actually like. It's one of those pow pow Kim Kardashian butts. But that's neither here nor there and barely worth mentioning because other than our internal organs roughly being in the same place, that's pretty much my only similarity to Kim Kardashian.

Deaf: If you weren't already deaf, guaranteed you'll be deaf by the time your son is 3. Don't rush right out and get a hearing aid. Welcome your new handicap. Haven't you ever heard the phrase, "Silence is bliss"? Trust me. Boys don't talk. They scream, shout, yell and love to smash things together just for the simple pleasure of hearing the crash. They are really nothing more than noise with dirt all over them.

Strict: You've got to be firm or they will walk all over you. If you give them an inch, they'll take a mile. Stick to your guns or they will rally together and conquer you, your soul & spirit.

Independent: In case you haven't gotten a sense of who I am by now, I'll break it down. I am a mom, first and foremost. But, after 7 PM when the boys are snug snug in their beds and if it should happen to be a girl's night out, I check my mommy hat at the door! I can turn it on and off like a light switch. It's GOOD for your boys to see you as a separate entity. They NEED to see that there are many different facets of their mothers. All in one day, I can go from school volunteer, to filthy blog writer, to beer swilling lush to a dirty little wife. My kids are only aware of the first and third versions of me....the others are kept under wraps.

Do yourself a favor and step out of mommy-mode once in a while and I'll tell you why it's important. Soon enough, your baby boys are going to grow up to be married men. If you coddle your sons and cater to their every whim from sun up to sun down.....your future daughter in law will hate you. Do her a favor and teach your son how to survive independently, because if you don't....you will probably have your 40 year old divorced son living in your basement. That way, when his wife wants to hit Chicago for a weekend get away with her girlfriends, your pathetic son won't be standing in the doorway with his dick in his hand. Show me a man who tries to make a can of soup in the oven and I'll show you a co-dependent mother. Ladies, we aren't doing our sons any favors by spoon feeding them into adulthood. Be kind to your future daughters in law. Cut the umbilical cords and teach the boys how to fend for themselves.

Creative: You have to be creative and imaginative to be the mother to boys. They aren't as smart as girls, God bless 'em, but creativity is a skill you'll have to hone when figuring out how to remove a 3 year old's head out from in between the spindles. Or figuring out the best way to go about removing a jar of vaseline from your son's hair. Or, how to distract them while getting stitches in their chin for the 3rd time in 2 years. Or how to retrieve a bouncy ball from the furnace. Or deciding whether to call poison control when your son eats bird poop from off a trampoline. Or who to blame when both boys are bleeding and both are lying through their teeth. Yes, it's creativity you'll turn to when policing, er.. mothering boys

Peaceful: I'm just kidding. You won't get a single moment's peace while your boys are still living with you. Ha ha. Oh, I'm such a prankster!

Rational: You don't even really have to be rational. You just have to seem rational so that the authorities aren't notified. If you scream at your boys until your eyes are blood shot, someone's bound to notice. Sunglasses are another great way to appear rational. You have no idea how many times a day my children come to me to solve some great dilemma. I can't walk passed them without one of them whining about needing something. My time, my attention, my vote, my empathy, my compassion, etc...

So, let's say I'm laying in the hammock reading In Style. Let's say the children see that my focus isn't on them and they immediately begin to harass me. "Mom, see who can hold their breath longer, Gabe or Me. Mom, Gabe cheated. I know he cheated. Mom, he so cheated. Mom, I know Gabe breathed through his nose. Mom, he's lying. Mom, can you look at his tongue and tell me if he's lying? Mom? Mom? Mom, did you hear me, Gabe is cheating. I held my breath longer. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom...." Now, normally that would drive anyone to edge, but with my sunglasses on, I just continue reading my magazine while my head is turned in their general direction--so they only think I'm watching them.

My rule of thumb is that I always side with smarter one. The dumb one doesn't even know what he's accused of and the smart one is satisfied that he's been validated. Situation diffused. Win/Win.

And there you have it. The How-To Raise Boys according to LeslieDishes. You are so a mother-of-boys if you have ever sat in a corner, rocking back and forth counting the minutes until relief arrives (ie. your husband, a friend, the police). Also, if you're ever on trial, the judge will immediately grant you a pardon if he/she is aware that you're the mother of boys, I'm told. The Betty Ford clinic waives their fees, as it turns out, if you're the mother to boys. (mothers of boys tend to get their drinky drink on) Sitting at the kitchen table in your pajamas, after noon, sobbing, is a perfectly normal way for a mother of boys to spend her day.

Being a mother to boys also renders you helpless with regard to your body. It's nothing for my boys to honk my boobs or 'pants' me while I'm emptying the dishwasher. It's like living with miniature versions of their father. Running up to me, sticking their butts in my face and tooting is another favorite pasttime of my boys. Arm farts is yet another good one. Talk of weiners is still alive and well. I've taken to calling my husband's unit his weiner, purely by habit. And finally, if you ever see a woman running (sprinting) to jump in the back of a police car, you'll know she's the mother of sons. My kids have cried to me that they're going to call the police because I'm so mean. I beg them to. "Go ahead!!!!", I say. "I'll go....willingly!!! Hell, jail would be better than the abuse I endure from you damn kids". ......And that's when you know, you're the mother of boys.

~Leslie, 2009

Mother to Ben: age 7 1/2 and Gabe: age 4.