Tuesday Tidbits | Confessions of a Mother of Boys

February 21, 2018

I’m Laura.
I started this blog for you! Filled with inspiration, education to better prepare you for your next appearance in front of the camera, and sprinkles of the story of my own life. 
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As Abe and I went out for a date night the other evening, I glanced at Abe and thought about whenever we go out all we seem to do is talk about is our kids (and maybe laugh a little at them too). But as I glanced over at him, my mind suddenly raced back to when it was just the two of us. When it was just me and him and our little apartment we were slowly building together. Those were such sweet times filled with treasured memories, but I wouldn’t trade them or the days that followed with anything. We were only ever kid-free in our marriage for about 2 years before our dear Evan made his grand entrance into our world. And shortly after his younger, mischievous little brother Andy appeared on the scene. And then two years came and went so quickly and our baby girl, our sweet little Adeline, was born. This month she turns 18 months old, and I sometimes catch myself trying to remember what she looked like only 12 months ago as I swipe my way back through pictures on my phone. I guess with the third one time is going so quickly its hard to soak it all in!

As I was reminiscing on this, I realized that so far parenting our little misters has been quite different than parenting our little miss! And I’m sure there will be many things the same and many things different just because she’s a girl, but I started a little mental list of all the ways being a mom of boys has (so far, at least) been different than a little girl. As the boys get older (and bigger and stronger) they also get more destructive!

Just in this last couple weeks they have succeeded in punching a second hole in their bedroom wall, torn the bed base from Evan’s bed rail so it can no longer be used, and torn the curtains out of the wall (though I saw that one coming, it was a slow progression of all the times they pulled on the curtains over the last 2 years). I think we have more pants with holes in them than not, and not a single white/light colored shirt that doesn’t have stains. Their favorite spots to sit at the table are covered in pock marks from banging silverware, and the coffee table looks more distressed than shabby chic.

Competitiveness has, lately, taken over our little family. There’s not a single simple instruction that can’t be accomplished without a race and a shout, “I did it first!” And this is invariably followed by tears from our little Andy who typically can’t get things done as quickly as Evan. This includes who can climb into the car first, wash their hands first, put their foot on the step first . . . and so it goes on. Sometimes we use it to our advantage (who can get their shoes and jackets on the fastest??) but more often than not it leads to a meltdown or two. Lots of deep breaths happening here as we navigate it all!

And here’s another thing that came to mind that I’m thinking will be different with boys than girls (but maybe not??) is potty talk. I’m not quite sure what’s so hilarious about it all, but there isn’t a day where some kind of body humor doesn’t have our boys rolling on the floor. And with potty training still happening with our Andy, potty talk is inevitable anyway! This last week as Andy was running in circles evidently needing to relieve himself, I asked him, “Andy, could you please go potty so you don’t have an accident?” He responded with, “Its ok, Mom! I scared the poop back in!” *Face palm* “Let’s go scare the poop OUT instead, ok??”

So you can see there’s never a dull moment in these parts, but with the craziness and all I wouldn’t trade it for anything. The difficult seasons ebb and flow, and I’m always reminding myself that these moments will fade so quickly and I’ll be asking myself, “wait, what were they like again?”

So as I look around our living room piled high with cars, some perched underneath pillows for the unsuspecting parent to sit on, toys strewn across the floor, dirty dishes waiting to be loaded up into the dishwasher, and muddy shoes that somehow didn’t find their way back to their shoe basket, I know that my kiddos are energy-less but so perfectly made. I wouldn’t trade a moment.

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