Here’s what’s true: I never wanted to be just a mom of boys.
I wanted every single one of my children to be a girl.
That’s not to say I wanted to be just a mom of girls.
No, not at all.
I wanted a mixture.
My perfect life before having kids looked like three boys first and a girl at the end. She would be the youngest -my little princess.
But, reality was all, girl nah, on that one.
First of all, four kids were not a thing anymore after the first one.
And secondly, none of them turned out to be girls.
It wasn’t for lack of trying.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say I Googled “how to have a girl” a couple of times and secretly tried their tactics when conceiving.
Or, that each time I went in for an ultrasound I wasn’t hoping and praying, that there would be no penis.
There was. Every single time.
In fact, the last time, it was so prominent and obvious the doctor knew at my 12 week ultrasound.
He offered to tell me then because he was so certain, “he’d bet his career on it”. I asked him to wait until I came back for my next one so I could bring my mom.
But I knew.
Vaginas just aren’t that convincing at 12 weeks gestation.
When I think back, I was never disappointed.
I know that might be hard to believe when you hear that I actually had a preference, but I just never felt disappointment in learning that I would forever be a mom of boys.
I wanted healthy babies first and when it came down to it, boys just felt right.
With Dude 1, I realized I always wanted an older brother so it would be nice for my second child when SHE was born.
With Dude 2, I remember thinking that while I wanted a daughter, it would be pretty awesome for Dude 1 to have a brother.
With Dude 3, I knew before it was confirmed (you can feel it in your bones, ya know?!), and I had little care. Third kids are kinda like that. When you have a preschooler and a toddler at home to care for, you don’t have time, energy, or the desire to sweat the small stuff -like whether or not the baby you’re growing will have a penis. You just want him to stay in there until the two year old is potty-trained and passed his everyone-and-everything-is-poopy phase.
As the years have passed, I have fully embraced this mom of boys life.
I love everything about my Dude Mom Life and can’t even imagine it any other way.
At times, when my fertility was still a thing, I thought about how my boys would be such awesome brothers to a sister, but life never really made space for more children.
And we were happy.
Even now as I have real life teen boys in my home, there are so many things I love about getting to raise them.
They aren’t always perfect and puberty is freaking weird, but I’m happy.
We are happy.
Mom Of Boys: 10 Real Things to Love About Being a Mom of Teen Boys
They don’t care to go shopping with you.
Even when it’s for them.
And, it’s not that they don’t care what they wear, at a certain age, everyone cares about how they look and what clothing they wear. It’s that they generally trust you to select items you instinctively know they like so giving you a list feels right, while being dragged around the mall all day just because you need a new pair of shorts feels wrong. Really, really wrong.
They take care of me.
Sometimes they don’t do a great job of it, but it’s the thought that counts.
I had surgery recently and my boys have been doting, sweet creatures during my recovery. I had Dude made snacks coming out of my ears. Sure, putting their shoes away so I didn’t have to remind them and making sure their uniforms were clean so I didn’t have to do it would’ve been much more helpful, but I love that they had sweet notes and peanut butter crackers ready and waiting for me every afternoon.
They let things go.
No grudges here. They can get into a fight playing basketball and two minutes later be the absolute best of friends again. It’s amazing how they turn those emotions off. There is no plotting and scheming to get anyone back. There is no bringing it up in an argument later. There is no silent treatment, no snippy tone -just forget it and move on.
They eat all of the food.
Now, at times, this one is actually not so awesome. If you note the amount of money we spend on food each month, it quickly reaches into the thousand dollar range when you add in eating out and school lunch purchases.
It. Is. Insanity.
But, it is also kinda awesome when you work it in your favor.
Because what I know is that my kids, if left to get hungry enough, will eat literally whatever I place before them.
Sometimes in minutes.
They all reach a point when their mouths turn into actual vacuums and all food within reach gets inhaled.
Eighteen burritos. A pound of bacon. 12 eggs. AN ENTIRE BOX OF CEREAL.
That’s what they are putting away at one sitting among the three of them.
They always look for me in the stands.
As most of you know, my boys are all pretty athletic.
They are all multi-sport athletes and we spend a significant amount of our time going from one sport to another.
I try my hardest to make it to as many of their games or meets or matches or whatever as possible because I love watching them play.
But, even more, I love it when I see them on the court/filed/pitch/deck looking into the stands for me.
Sometimes it’s because they weren’t sure I was going to arrive in time. Sometimes they want to make sure I saw them do something good. Sometimes, they just need my eyes for encouragement.
That’s why I always try to be there, because I know they are looking.
They still let me hug them.
And sometimes, they will crawl into my bed, put their heads on my shoulder, and tell me things.
Or ask if we can have popcorn and watch a couple of episodes of Supernatural together.
Yes, yes we can.
They’re bigger than me.
It’s a little heart breaking at first, but now I feel like everywhere I go, I have my own security team.
I can throw on heels, sunglasses, and an oversized bag and I swear I look like a celebrity trying to go to the grocery store with them surrounding me.
Until someone decides to play money shot with my shopping cart.
And then I look like a mom with rowdy teenagers who don’t know how to act at the grocery store.
What’s money shot? An annoying game my kids developed at the where they give each other points and scores based on how far away and how awesome a shot is when they shoot the food I am buying into my cart.
This is why they don’t go to the grocery store with me anymore.
I never have to carry heavy things.
Or empty my car after a shopping trip. Or take out the trash. Or mow the lawn. Or shovel snow. Or wash cars. Or, seriously, I have the manual labor game all sewn up.
Or kill bugs.
Which is good because I have a strict don’t get near evil policy that means massive critters would be setting up lemonade stands in my house if it weren’t for The Dudes and their relentless spider-and-other-creep-insect killing and/or capturing sprees (depends if they have a resident toad).
I can already see what kind of men they will be.
Not totally, but a little.
I am not ready for totally.
Read more mom of boys post here: DudeMom Life