Tag Archives: raising boys

He Said What?!?

He Said What?!?

We were out mountain biking with some friends and J decided he needed to say something to my girlfriend, E.

J:  Can I give you a compliment?  
E:  Sure.
J:  You might want to know that you’re a chatterbox and talk alot.  
E:  Um.  Thanks.  Not sure that was a compliment.

On the way home, I wanted to clarify exactly what J had meant.

Me:  J, what do you think compliment means?
J:  It means you tell somebody something about themselves that they might not know and they need to know.  
Me:  Ah.  A compliment is actually saying something kind about someone.  
J:  Oops.
Me:  What were you trying to tell E? 
J:  That she talks too much.  I thought she might want to know.  I’m just not used to girls and how much they talk and I thought she should know.  I wasn’t trying to be mean but I wasn’t trying to compliment her either.  I guess I was informing.
Me:  Next time, shoot for the compliment.  

Lucky for me, E is super cool and I love that she’s a “chatterbox”.  

S:  Mom, I kind of like the word dick.  
Me:  Oh yeah, why is that?
S:  It just sounds cool.
Me:  I kind of like that word too.  
S:  If we like it, why can’t we just use it?  It sounds better than penis.  
Me:  People consider it to be vulgar.  It’s simply kinder in our society to limit our use of that word.  
S:  I guess that makes sense.  I just wish penis was vulgar and dick was kind.  

We were taking a family walk to the grocery store and I was really irritated and grouchy and kind of walking fast and angrily in front of the family.  And then G runs up to me and takes my hand…

G:  Mom, are you sad because you’re the only vagina? 

I cracked a smile at that unexpected question.

G:  I mean, if you look at our family there are 5 penises.  Well 6 if you count Decker’s (our dog).  6 penises and 1 vagina.  I’d be sad if I was the only vagina.  Actually you’re the only boobs too.  Wow, that’s sad.  
Me:  I don’t think I’m sad because I’m the only vagina and boobs.  But maybe I am because I was being grouchy at all the chaos and noise you boys (daddy included) make.  Thanks for noticing my sadness, G.  I love you.

Less than 12 hours later, I started my period.  That sent me in to a fit of laughter.  The accuracy of being the sad vagina in the family.

P:  Mom, no offense but your tummy is kind of fat.  
Me:  Oh, P, that hurt my feelings a little bit.  

P reaches over and gives me a big hug and his I’m sorry eyes.

P:  Well, maybe not fat.  It just looks like you’re growing another baby.

This is the boys’ favorite joke right now.  Enjoy.

After I say my line you say Ketchup and Rubber Buns.

Me:  What did you eat for breakfast?
You:  Ketchup and Rubber Buns.
Me:  What did you eat for lunch?
You:  Ketchup and Rubber Buns.
Me:  What did you eat for dinner?
You:  Ketchup and Rubber Buns.
Me:  What do you do when an old lady passes you on the street?
You:  Ketchup and Rubber Buns.  


He Said What?!? (90s Black Nuts or Something Like That)

The Goonies

The Goonies (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Last week the boys and I were trying to decide on a movie rental when I clicked on a preview for one of my favorites.

Me:  Oh, this was one of my favorites from when I was a kid.  You boys are going to love it!  Here, I’ll show you a preview.

Halfway through the preview…

J (age 10):  C’mon, mom.  This is sooooo 90s.  Show us something from the 21st century.

Me:  Seriously?!?  Did you seriously just say that?  

J: Yeah, step in to the 21st century, Mom.  Things are better here.  Things like…ummmm….movies, duh.  

Me:  Oh, you just brought it.  Just for that, I’m taking you back to the 80s and you’re going to sit here and watch Goonies and you’re gonna like it!  Next time it’s Gremlins!!!!  Watch out!  Maybe after you learn to enjoy the 80s I’ll let you enter the 90s.

We went to a local amusement park and I had the privilege of riding with S (age 7) on of those ferris wheels with cages that spin around.

Me:  Whoah, that spin just made my stomach drop.  Totally feels like butterflies in there.  

Screaming at the top of his lungs….

S:  This ride makes it tickle in my nuts and it’s the best feeling EVER!!!!!!

Me:  I’m not sure I’ll ever understand you boys and your nuts!

We were dying for dinner the other night and the only place near us that didn’t have a long wait was a somewhat quiet, fancy steak house and at the booth behind us sat three African Americans.  During the dinner the boys’ side of the booth faced a television in the bar area on which a boxing match was being aired.  One guy was wearing black gloves and one guy was

Boxing gloves

Boxing gloves (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

wearing red.  When viewing competitive sports the boys speak about the teams in regards to what color they are wearing.  In this case that would be the black guy and the red guy.

G (not using his restaurant voice at all!): OMG!  Did you see that?  The black guy was all getting punched in the face.  The other guy was all pow, pow, pow, and the black guy’s face looked like this in slow motion.  It’s so hilarious.  

All the boys break out in giggles

G:  It’s like the red guy wants to kill the black guy.  Oh yeah, the black guy is losing.  He’s getting hit hard.  

S:  I’ll be the black guy and you punch me in the face.

This went on for minute after minute after long f*n minute.  Adam and I sat there cringing knowing what it must sound like to listen to the conversation at our table.  But no biggie because we knew they were simply talking about the black boxing team and the red boxing team and not laughing about a black man getting randomly beat to a bloody pulp.  Thank goodness.  

Break to commercial and the boys all start playing “Jinx, you owe me a soda”.  In an effort to one up each other, the stakes of what they owed each other kept getting bigger and louder.  

G:  Jinx, I own you like a slave, P.  You’re my slave for life now and have to do whatever I tell you for no money.  

Face, meet palm.  Facepalm.

Adam:  Check please!

Penis Theories


A good friend of mine was having his first child…a girl.
We sat around one evening talking about what to expect, first time parent worries, and eventually the talk turned to penises.  You know, because every talk turns to penises.  At least in my life it seems to.

He informed me that I was so lucky to have boys.   The conversation went a little something like this…

T:  You’re so lucky you have boys.

Me:  You think?  I think you’re lucky that you get to have a girl.  Well you’re lucky until teenage years.  I seriously wouldn’t want to deal with that drama (not realizing that ten year old boys have drama too!).

T:  Yeah, but see when V gets to be a teenager I have to worry about every penis.  Every.  Single.  One.  You only have to worry about 4 penises.

Me:  Whoah!  I’ve seriously never thought about that.  I am SO lucky I have boys.  Four penises.  That’s it.  You’ve got like a million to stress about!  Dude, that totally sucks for you!

T:  See, told you.  Lucky.

Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women'...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It took me about one week of living with his truth before I realized just how wrong he was.  Before I realized just how fucked I am for having four boys!

Here’s the reality.  It only takes one penis to put his daughter out of commission for 9 months. For 9 months straight he has peace from penis worry.  Whereas the penises of my four boys can impregnate a lot of teenage girls!
Let me break it down for you, worst case or bad case scenario style:

Let’s say my boys are sexually active from the ages of 15 to 19.  That’s 5 sexually active years.   And let’s say that they somehow are able to get laid at least once a week and for some reason choose to never use protection (you know because “she said she was on the pill, mom”).Then let’s say that they are capable of impregnating one fertile girl a week each.  That’s 52 girls a year per child making 208 pregnant girls by my boys in one year.  Multiply that times five years and my damn boys and their damn penises have impregnated over 1000 girls (1,040 to be exact)!

Yeah, T,  you want to play this game?!?  My four penises totally schooled your one vagina theory!

It’s a good thing my boys are never getting laid and they will never learn the art of the game.  That is the lie I am selling myself after running these numbers!  Otherwise I might just go insane.

Stay awkward, stay hairy, and may you develop lots and lots of teenage acne, boys.  Mama loves you.

10 Reasons Having Four Boys Is Just Plain Crazy


My sister recently sent me a blog post by Ninja Mom (queen of funny moms) about why having four kids is a really bad idea.  Go over and check it out, especially if you are even slightly (and insanely)IMG_1127 considering adding a fourth to your brood.  A little dose of reality from someone who has been there, done that seems to separate the smart ones from the dumb ones.  I’m one of the dumb ones! But I’m here to save you from the same lot in life that I have chosen.  I’m here to warn you why you should not only avoid (if you have the option) having four children but having four children of the male variety.

I’m not quite certain whose bright idea it was to have four kids.  Certainly we must’ve been drunk.  And I sure as hell don’t know why the gender selector of the universe thought it would be good for laughs to give this impatient, olfactory sensitive woman four boys!   Too late to wonder now because we’re here whether we like it or not.  But that doesn’t mean you have to join our asylum. Take it from me, run away as fast as you can!

1.  Food Bills.  I recall the pre-boys days when Adam and I could eat (and booze) for $300/month.  EnterIMG_0606 four mouths to feed and that $300 looks like an afternoon snack.  I look at my boys like a game of hungry hippos, frantically scarfing down mass amounts of feed in mere seconds.  They are hoover vacs shamelessly relishing tasteful morsels of whatever they can find in table cracks, under couch cushions, park playground tunnels, doctor’s office floors.  Street beggars scavenging for anything left behind at baseball games or on another diner’s table in restaurants.  Nothing is beneath these bottomless pits and the hunger never ceases.  I’m scared to death of teenage years and have already warned them that they will not be allowed to have friends over.  We simply can’t afford it.  You guys will just have to find friends who have moms who find pleasure in feeding you.  Happy hunting, from your broke ass parents.IMG_1115

2. Urine & Shit Reek.   Boys and their bathrooms are disgusting.  Capital D, Disgusting.  I say this to

courtesy of mysecuritysign.com

courtesy of mysecuritysign.com

you as just an hour ago I was picking up shit nuggets off their bathroom floor.  Who the hell shits on a bathroom floor?!?   Worse yet, when questioned, all the boys adamantly deny they are the guilty shitter and second, tell me that the shit pebbles have been there for two days.  “See, mom, I stepped on one this morning and that’s why it’s smeared right there.”  WTF, boys!  Smiles and giggles abound.  Accusatory fingers point.  And what kind of sick people ignore poop that they have stepped in?!?  The disgustingness doesn’t end with shit.  Boys are notorious for spraying urine anywhere but the toilet.  We have urine on the wall, urine on the floor, urine on toilet seats (which I’ve sat sat my ass in so many times that peeing with the toilet seat down is now on our consequence chart!), toilet paper glued to the floor with urine.  You can’t even step in their bathroom without the vague sense that a pack of dogs has been marking their territory for the past year.  That overpowering intake of ammonia you smell…not dogs.  Nope, that’s just the piss stench of four boys during the course of a week.  We are a hazmat crew’s worst nightmare.

3.  Feet Reek Too.  Sadly the foul odors that are emitted from boys does not stop at piss and shit.  Boys simply smell bad.  All the time.  If you have four boys you can plan on your home smelling faintly of feet and your car will smell even worse than your home.  A mix of feet, sweat, and rotten milk.  I often find myself ashamed of the way we (meaning they) smell.  I picture us walking around a store with a visible line of stank trailing behind us.  Much like Linus from Charlie Brown.  “Oh, man, here come the S’s.  We could smell you the moment you stepped out of the car.”  Baths almost seem worthless.  You bathe them (only to have to now decontaminate your dirt lined bathtub) and they still smell.  So if you have a sensitive nose like me you may just want to stop having boys right this second!

4.  They “Fix” Everything.  Boys seem to be builders by nature.  While that is a great trait to have, the problem lies in the fact that they often need to disassemble something first in order to put it back together.  That just reminded me of,  “Number Five is alive.  No disassemble.”  Sorry, I digress.  I just love that movie!  If you don’t have boys you’ve probably not seen Short Circuit and now think I have gone completely mad.  Anyhow back to fixing things.  We have gone through more reading lights, flashlights, alarm clocks, and walkie talkies than I care to mention.  Each one a victim to a merciless boy who thought it’d be best if he took it apart to “fix” it.  None of which has ever been returned to working order.

5.  It’s All About the Penis.   If you are going to have four boys you may as well get super comfortableIMG_0492 with the word penis and all that the penis is about.  Penis and nuts.  Penis and nuts.  Penis and nuts.  Just keep saying it because once you have boys you’ll never hear the end of those wonderful extensions of their beloved groin area.  I’m sure you may already know this from your grown boy (see picture as evidence), the obsession remains well beyond their maturing years.  It’s a penis fest in this house.  From size envy to how exciting erections are.  From the time  boys are super small they will inevitably find a hole that their penis fits in.  If I told you how many penises I have seen squeezed in to shampoo bottles during bathtime you might just start to tune me out!  Oh and the pride that comes with all the wonderful and astounding tricks that penises can do (and they don’t even understand their full potential yet!).  Now that they are getting a little older the talks have progressed to how their penis tickles when they can almost see Beyonce’s vagina during the superbowl halftime, who’s getting hair and all the funny ways they can make it erect.  Not to mention hitting each other in the nuts (or nutsack) as a choice of entertainment.  Yep, the penis is a big hit in this family and very soon they’ll be hiding socks under their beds.  I’m super excited about what’s to cum.  Sorry, I just couldn’t resist.  Their tactless ways are rubbing off (haha again with the tasteless joke).  Let’s move on before I get myself in trouble here.

6.  T & A.  Sadly, no matter how hard you try to avoid it, if you are the only female in the house you will be reduced to a sum of your parts.  I am constantly reminding my boys that I do not want to talk about my girl parts all of the time.  That I am far more than breasts and a juicy butt.  But usually they just want to stare and ask questions.  There are moments when I just cringe at what they are thinking but at the same time I’m extremely thankful that they feel comfortable enough to ask the questions they are thinking and that I’ve made this a safe place for them to ask those questions.  That said, it’s still mind numbingly irritating to have to answer questions about your T & A all the goddamn time!  More often than not I’ve had to ask my oldest to please look at my eyes when he’s talking to me and not my breasts.  To which he replies, “sorry, mom, breasts are just so fascinating.”  This is also the child that straight up asks me, “Does dad like to touch your juicy butt?”  His head also uncomfortably rests right between my breasts so he’s constantly asking for hugs because he likes how soft breasts are.  Holy crap, child, leave me the F alone!  The younger boys just get a good kick out of smacking my butt and commenting on how it jiggles or conveniently sneaking peeks while I’m changing.  I often wish there was another girl around who understood that my parts are my parts and then we could just move on from there.  But they have lots of questions and I am going to be the first person to give them that information so I’m grateful for those opportunities.  At the same time, I’m so over it!

7.  Noise.  Not only are boys super proud of their male body parts but they are downright egoic about the types of noises they can make with their bodies.  If you have four boys expect that your days will be filled with overt enthusiasm for loud, rumbling passages of gas, long belches, armpit farts, machine gun noises, warrior calls, and an endless number of other annoyances that you dream of wishing away.  There will only be about 8 hours a day when there is quiet and that is when they are fast asleep.  The rest of the time they are dead set on one-upping each other for the champion of noise.IMG_0608

8.  Legos.  Legos can be both awesome and treacherous.  Awesome because they can make a rambunctious child calm.  Treacherous because they are like a nasty little virus spreading around the house and they infect you at the worst time of day,  night.  It is inevitable that multiple times throughout your boys’ Lego playing years you will find yourself swearing all profanities because you have yet again stepped on that wayward brick.  They are painful little bastards.  If you choose to have four boys your chances of stepping on a Lego is increased fourfold.  Is that a risk you’re willing to take?

9.  Boys Like Boring Things.  Ladies, if you have four boys chances are none of them are going to want to shop with you, paint nails with you, let you dress them in a darling little pink tutu, or do any of the stereotypical girlie things that we often enjoy.  Instead you will watch endless hours of television about exploding toilets, dinosaurs, pirates, car parts, and documentaries about how machines work.  And after you watch television about those things you will read boring book after boring book on those same topics.  And once those books are read your boys are going to want to talk your ear off about every little nuance they learned about those engines and fascinating dinosaurs. Then the cherry on top is that every mother’s day card, school drawing, and fantasy activity will be based on those wonderful non-fiction, scientific explorations that they find so fascinating.  You must pretend you really are interested.   Not only interested but enthusiastic.  You will simply have to educate yourself on each of their interests so you can officially be a mom who gives a shit.  Happy reading.

10.  Clothing Budget.  Pants are a necessity where many of us live.  We can’t send our boys to schoolIMG_1107 in shorts for the whole year round even though we know buying jeans and pants is pointless.  It takes about one week of school before at least one of the knees has been ripped open.  By week two we are usually kneeless.  I used to think this was somewhat cute.  Ripped knees meant my boy had been out having fun.  Exploring.  Playing great games.  That was until I had four boys, zero hand-me-downs, and a decreasing budget.  Just yesterday I stepped down in to the basement to count 13 pairs of pants from this past year with missing knees.  A vital component to pants, don’t you think?  13!  Boys will be boys and I think that’s great but what the hell is wrong with walking on your feet?!?  Having boys has increased our need for clothes (or patches if you are savvy that way).  Needless to say don’t plan on passing anything down and do plan on giving up your monthly pedicure to pay for new pants.  I guess that’s the price we pay to have four male spawn.  On the bright IMG_0753side it gives us an excuse to shop.

So there you have it.  My top ten reasons not to have boys.  It was easy to write this tonight because my husband has been away for 7 days and I’m exhausted being mama to these little guys.  We aren’t always on the best of terms so tonight seemed as good as any to bitch just a little.  The funny thing… after I wrote this I realized just how much I love those little, smelly, costly rascals.  I wouldn’t trade them for anything even if I think they are Disgusting.

*This post is brought to you by the land of missing socks (another problem with boys!).IMG_1174

Stop the Insanity!


Like all parents, our lives are filled to the brim with baseball, coaching, homework, playdates, school functions, board meetings, job searching and part-time gigs, tax deadlines, hobbies, guests, making friends, keeping up the house, and, oh yeah, raising a decent family of boys.  Life was starting to feel insane and now seemed as good a time as any to focus on fixing the issues that are causing us to be psycho parents and our boys devilish little minions.

So this weekend we played baseball:

IMG_0927IMG_0956And then I made cookies to soften the blow of the upcoming family meeting:IMG_1389And then we put a stop to the insanity!  Chore Chart and Consequence Chart Written, Discussed, and Hung in the kitchen:IMG_1388

IMG_1387We’ve stopped the bleeding and I think we have control back?  At least the boys believe we are back in charge and that’s all that matters! Their response has been very positive.  Each boy likes knowing exactly what he is responsible for and what his consequences will be if he makes a bad choice.  Easy for us too.  Fingers crossed that we have officially stepped off the crazy train!