Raising a boy...

I love being the mother of a boy. Long before I was pregnant with E, I knew I wanted to be the mother of a boy. A few of my friends are expecting boys for the first time, and we've been laughing about the differences between boys and girls. While I lack experience with little girls aside from tea parties and princess dresses, after almost 10 years of living in isolated captivity with a little boy, I consider myself a subject matter expert.

When talking with my friend, I mentioned that E leaves a trail of chaos in his wake. She laughed and said that her daughter is messy, too, and I replied that E isn't messy....he's chaotic. It was hard to put into words, but there's a difference.

Your trash can always looks like this:

 

 

The top of their dresser is layered with clothes, hats, masks, and play dough mats.

 

 

 

His bathroom looks like this 24 hours after being cleaned.

 

 

 

Legos are everywhere. Everywhere.

 

 

 

Your couch looks like this after he's watched a cartoon.

 

 

 

Underwear is twirled on the foot and left where it lands.

 

 

 

The secret to a long, healthy life sounds like this.

 





Super old things from the nineteen hundreds...

E: "Guess what?!"
Me: "What?"
E: "I found a quarter on the playground today!"
Me: "That's awesome!"
E: "It was just laying there! A quarter!"
Me: "You have a good eye!"
E: "Yep. I was pretty impressed with myself. I put it in my pocket to make sure I wouldn't lose it."
Me: "Have you put it in your bank yet?"
E: "Nope. I don't have it anymore."
Me: "What happened?"
E: "I traded it for a penny that my friend found."
Me: "You traded a quarter for a penny?"
E: "Yeah. It was from, like, 1992, so super old. I thought it might be worth something."
Me: "1992 wasn't that long ago, bubs. I think it's still only worth a penny."
E: "Something from the NINETEEN HUNDREDS is only worth a penny? But it's crazy old!"
Me: "Dude. I'm from the nineteen hundreds."
E: "Right..."
Me: "Whatevs. I'm going to start making dinner soon."

Farming prevents the nightmares...

Winding down on the couch and E curls up next to me...

E: "Whatcha watching?"
Me: "A show about Auschwitz. Remember how we talked about those bad camps during the war where a lot of people were killed?"
E: "Oh, yeah."
Me: "This was one of them."
E: "Oh."

*E stands up, casually stretches, and starts walking away*
Me: "Where are you going? You don't want to watch with me?"
E: "Mom, it's 8pm. You know this kind of stuff will give me nightmares."
Me: "It's just the beginning. They aren't going to show any of the bad stuff for a little while. It's important history."
E: "I would, but I have some important stuff to do on the computer."

*E continues walking away*
Me: "What? What important stuff?"
E: "My cows need to be milked and my pumpkins need to be picked. It'll get me relaxed before bed. Enjoy your show."