It's A Mom Life For Me

Have you seen the boy mom shirts? I’m not sure why I’ve only seen them say boy mom and not girl mom. Maybe because other boy moms need the solidarity? Or because girl moms don’t need shirts to be recognized? (Hint: They’re the ones with desperation in their eyes and glitter in their hair.) The term is slightly confusing too. Are you a boy mom if you ONLY have sons? Or is it if you have any boy children at all, because let’s face it, all children are vaguely scarring in their own right?

 Do you need to advertise your kids when they aren't with you?

Recently I’ve thought about what it takes to be a boy mom. Again, I’m not sure if I qualify because only ¾ of my offspring have the correct parts. I think, however, that the 3 to 1 ratio makes me an acceptable boy mom. My guns versus glitter quota has been fulfilled. Anyone who only has one gender of children might not understand the differences in being a boy mom or a girl mom, but they ARE quite a few distinct differences. Here are my top 5:

Scents. Unlike girls who enjoy things like scented lotions, perfumes, and using soap, boys come in three flavors: Sweaty, Gym Locker, and I Just Farted. Ok, well, mine do at least. And they only come in one variety (I Just Farted) until puberty hits. (Some boy parents might be unlucky to get a fourth choice: Skunk Foot.) Have you ever noticed that the female sense of smell is so much more developed? It’s because even guys can’t stand the smell of themselves. This is why they need mothers, girlfriends, sisters, wives and other present females in their lives. They are the 12 step program to rehabilitate those stinkers.

Bodily functions. Farts. Toots. Passing Gas. Whatever you call it, all 4 of my guys (husband included) think they are hilarious. Burps are second on that list. Any gaseous ability is chuckle worthy. Girls come from the womb holding in all of these functions. (I’m generalizing. But 99.9% of females I personally know fall into this category.) We would probably explode before passing gas in public. In fact, my 9 year old will tell everyone that his mom doesn’t fart. That’s right son, it never happens. (That you know of.) It's a widely known fact that mothers are immune to the fart virus. Let's keep it that way.

Sensitivity training needed. It’s like letting bulls run loose in a china shop. There’s no gentleness in my boys. The youngest is the worst. He’s like a mini Hercules; he just doesn’t know his own strength. (Does anyone else play the Eddy Murphy Nutty Professor skit in their head when they hear someone say Hercules? No? Okay then.) I’ve resigned myself to not having anything nice while my boys are still living with me. This is true for all kids, but boys seem to amp up that destruction level by about 1,000 percent.

Gross with a capital G. As if the bodily function obsession wasn't enough, there are also bugs, snakes, boogers, dirt/mud, snot (Yes, it's different than boogers.), ear wax, and blood. If it's nasty, boys are in it hip deep. The grosser the better. Now this isn't universal. I know boys who are just as icked out by bugs or blood as I am. Unfortunately , I didn't seem to give birth to them. Mine are more the type to have peeing contests like the boys in the Clorox commercial. (If you don't know which commercial I'm talking about: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_g7s2oBzCw)

NO FEAR. This is my least favorite. I'm not sure if it's all boys, or if I lost the luck lottery, but they don't seem to understand that there are some things they should be afraid of. Like sticks in the eye, long drops, and losing multiple layers of skin when your brother drags you around the lawn on the wagon handle. That last child is either Evil Kneivel reincarnated (Wait, he is dead right?) or trying to be the world's youngest dare devil. He has two speeds: run and sprint. In six days he's managed to run in the hallway and fall into a door jamb (chin scrape), fall and face plant on a heater at daycare (purple mark from eyebrow to his now fat lip), and somehow managed to scrape his forehead between his eyebrows. The kid needs a freaking helmet. If CPS knocks on my door tomorrow he's going to look like an extra from "Mommie Dearest". Of course, if I let them watch him walk for five minutes, they'll see his problem. Toddler top heavy? Clutzy two left feet? Regardless, I'm buying stock in Band-aids.

Being a boy mom pretty much takes fortitude, courage, strength, and air freshener. Lots and lot of air freshener. You also might want to take up knitting. Or maybe whittling. Some hobby that has been scientifically proven to decrease stress due to child rearing.  Like drinking. Or Prozac.