One Mama living in a Boys' world

There is one of me. There is four of them.

We are way past the point of being out numbered.

 

I wake up to a baby boy letting me know that he is famished after a full nights sleep. His two big brothers aren't far behind, bursting through the door to let me know that "the sun came up!" Half the time they have already helped them self to a bowl of cereal or container of yogurt and left the mess all over the dining room table to prove it. 

But I always have the hardest time, getting up and leaving and not just staying in bed-just a little longer,to snuggle my smallest boy, just a little bit more. There's something about the fresh morning light streaming in onto his soft, baby face. There's a beauty to it that strikes me every time and I try and catalog it away in my memory.

  Some days, I can convince the big boys to come cuddle with their mama-usually it's more like the idea of snuggling with baby brother that does it. On those rare days, the cuddling lasts maybe 2 1/2 minutes, at the most. Too much raw potential for mischief and adventure awaits a little boy outside of that bedroom door. 

From the moment their feet hit the floor in the morning, it is non stop commotion.The only quiet, still moments of the day come with a brief break for naps. There is utter dismay and shock at the idea of nap time-each and every day. Even though we consistently take naps- each and every day.

The activity of choice around this house is battling with some sort of weapon, wether it be a foam sword or a stick "gun." There is always a bad guy to be fought- sometimes he's imaginary, but

most of the time he's your brother. Casualities are taken from either side about every 5 minutes. Battle wounds mean a tear blurred run to Mama for a validation of the injury before rushing back to the fight the good fight.

"Battle" seems to just be hard wired in to how boys contend with life. "A battle of the wills" could be the name of the game a fair amount of days in our house. It feels like, as a mom of boys, most days I have to fight hard to reaffirm my authority and gain their respect. That battle, day in and day out, is exhausting work for an introverted Mama like myself. I've had to toughen up and learn to assert myself in ways I never had a need to before these strong willed boys came into my life. 

They have led me on a new journey and I am not the same person I was before them. Sometimes it scares me a little, the idea that I've changed. I worry that I've lost my self and some of my femininity in this house of masculinity. I fear that I've become a bit callused and left behind my more winsome self. I wonder if my role as a mother will resound little in the lives of these stout hearted boys who all but worship their father. 

But then I have the joy of getting a glimpse of the little snippets of "Me" that are woven into each of them. 

My rough and tumble Oldest will see something from a perspective that he could have only picked up from his Mama. He sees the beauty in a robin's egg and so badly wants to reunite it with it's mother bird. Because every body needs a mama. 

 

   My Little/Big One will go "fly hunting" with an avengeness because his Mama hates, hates flies in her house. He will diligently help mom with her kitchen chores and loves to help cook dinner.

And the Baby One, where ever Mama is, that's where he wants to be. He just loves to take in all life has to offer, from the security of Mama's arms. Going to bed at night isn't his idea of fun, but let him curl up in Mama's bed during the early morning and he is content there for hours. 

Those times when my husband turns to me with a gleam in his eye and a chuckle in his voice and says, "They didn't get that from me!" That's when I realize they may be all boy, abut parts of their mama lives behind those little eyes too. 

 

And as much as their whole day seems to revolve around "when is Daddy going to be home?", Mama provides a comfort zone for their little lives. It makes my heart glad when tired little boys come busting thru the front door from a fishing trip with Daddy and I'm greeted with, "I missed you, Mama." When I hear that my Little/Big One got worn out and just wanted to go to back to "Mama's House.

 

The Oldest feels it's completely unacceptable for anyone but his Mama to take him to bed. He will throw a genuine fit if Dad "has" to do it. It's our routine- Little/Big One prays, the Oldest prays, Mama prays and then lots of kisses and hugs good night. That is the habit that lulls him to sleep each night. 

I may not always be the excitement, but I bring the stability. And I'm ok with that.

  In all the everyday ins and outs that all blur together, these little boys and I have created a world all our own. I have 3 small friends to explore with, laugh with, eat with.

 Each day that starts with "So what do you want to do today, Mom?" is a new adventure. And we do have some, maybe ordinary, but always fun advenures. 

 

I love that they each have big appetites for learning and discovery. 

They are always finding new treasures and making up new games.

I really love that all three of my boys enjoy a good book. We can sit on the couch with a huge stack of books, read thru all of them and they will still be begging for "just one more!" That makes this book loving Mama awful proud. 

 So ya, being outnumbered by all these boys has changed me. I have lost myself a bit in them. They try me and they challenge me. But, with God's grace, I think I'm slowly finding a better me. A more flexible and less serious self. A stronger and more confident femininity.    When my oldest son tells me, "You look pretty, Mama. You always look pretty," I believe him and I'm made thankful to be a mama to boys. 

 This isn't how I think I would have pictured motherhood looking like for me. It is so more messy and so much more beautiful.