My boys

I am the proud mother of two boys. I love it. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting when I looked seriously into this whole motherhood thing. But, in a million years, I never really let myself imagine what it would be like to call out..”Boys! Come to dinner!”

I’m sure other people wouldn’t understand. I came from a family of girls. I am number 4 out of 4. And the other 3 were quite a bit older than me. So, there weren’t a lot of sibling situations for me. In many ways, I grew up as an only child.

My mom calls me the “the best surprise“. I’m really glad she decided to just jump in with both feet and take the positive attitude about my unexpected birth.  I came 15 years late. Which totally set the stage for the rest of my life.

I would love to know what it feels to be on time.

I’m getting a clock like this one:

But anyway, that being said, I’m a firm believer in everything happening for a reason. I have many instances where me arriving late has actually turned out quite well.

When I remember those times, I’ll be sure to let you know.

Back to my boys. If you are just joining my blog, you may not know that I have 3 amazing very old spirits disguised as children that agreed to let me be their Mom.

Violet* is my only girl, and the First. She is 12.

Klause* is my Middler, and eldest son. He is 11.

Sunny* is my Littlest , and he is 5.

Watching the relationship they have with each other, is fascinating to me. And, today, with the leader of the pack off socializing with friends and flirting with the opposite sex….(sigh)..I was left with both boys underfoot.

It’s hotter than Hades out in our neck of the woods right now. I’m a good Mom to hustle and bustle little people outdoors. I myself as a child lived outside. I didn’t come in unless forced.

But, good golly it’s scorching hot out there.

Now what.

I am teacher. I’ve taught children as small as 2 years old, and as old as 9 years old.

I’ve been known to be crafty. I really shouldn’t be let near glue guns, but other than that, I’m Miss Creative.

So, I pulled out a little tissue paper art. And found all the stuff I need to spark children’s imagination and creativity.

Here’s how it went:

Littlest: Momma! Help ME!! I want my art to be the most beautiful. (he says this…not looking at me at all. He’s looking right at the Middler. Little Instigator.

Middler: Whatever Dude. I’m not even doing art. (he says this scornfully. Which in this case means full of scorn for Littlest’s attempt at getting ME-Head Crafter extraordinaire on his side)

Littlest and me craft away. Crumpling tissue, sticking it artfully here and there on a fish-shaped piece of cardboard.  It’s addictive. I find myself arguing with little guy about where which color should go.

Back off Miss Controlling. Jeez. Never gonna make a Picasso this way….I remind myself.

Soon, I look over, and whaddya know. Middler has finally been lured into Tissue Paper Art like a dog to forbidden kitty treats.

Middler: Hey Mom, you can help me, too…..if you wanna…he says quietly, and somewhat sheepishly.

Me: Of course, sweetheart!

I am secretly thrilled. My days of doing art with this kid are numbered. I only get to today because he has a fever of 101.2….and I’m making him stay home. No pool, no bike riding, and no fishing.  His choices are limited.

I don’t care. Call me opportunistic.

So, now, I’m moonlighting on Middler’s Tissue paper creation, while working steadily on Littlest’s jumble of  something that looks like a fish with one really crazy eye that follows you wherever you go.

I won’t bore you with all the dialogue, but I have to tell you….those boys fought over my attention like two dogs would over a bone.

I have a Bachelor of Science degree in Early Childhood Education. So, I know how to handle such situations.

I popped a movie in, and gave them sugary soda and candy, to take some of their attention off competing with each other.

It totally worked.

I love my boys. And I love saying…My Boys.

P.S. Is it wrong that I lapped up all that vying for my attention like a cow to a salt block? (I grew up in Iowa. Cows like salt, for any of you city slickers out there.)

*names have been changed