When I was little and daydreamed about my future family, I imagined having four girls.
I am the middle of three girls and have always been pretty girly. I grew up dancing ballet, playing house and doing makeovers with my sisters. I nannied for a family of three girls and it just seemed right that I would someday be a mom of all girls.
But then I had a boy.
And another boy.
My plan of having all girls flew out the window and instead my life became all about mysterious things like nerf swords and Star Wars and Lightening McQueen.
Of course, I LOVED having those sweet baby boys. The minute I wrapped my head around blue instead of pink, I was solidly in. Audrey came along to round out our family and bring a bit of girliness in, but before she was here, I was a boy mom. Wrestling, knocking down towers, the fascination with trucks and those strange toddler boy undies – these things became my norm.
I found out I liked mothering little boys.
What I was terrified of were TEENAGE boys.
I often said that I hoped Jesus would return before my boys hit puberty. This mama was not equipped for dealing with stinky, sweaty boys with voice cracks and hair in weird places and the only solution I could think of for avoiding the whole thing was Jesus saving me from it.
And then the years passed and those baby boys grew up. And Jesus still hasn’t returned. Which means I am now the mother of two official teenage boys with one right behind.
The smell that fills the car after football practice is shocking. The voice cracks hilarious. The hair and height and strength and massive shoes hard to get used to.
But the most surprising thing of all is how much I ADORE these teenagers of mine.
It turns out, I really, really like being a mom of teenage boys.
They are fun to be around. They ask great questions and want to talk about real, deep things. I like their friends. Watching them play football and run cross country is the best. And they make me laugh so hard.
The boys are not perfect and I am not a perfect mom. We have conflicts and emotional outbursts. There have been tough consequences to follow through with (it’s so hard!). They push buttons and push limits and their bathroom is disgusting. They are taller and bigger and stronger than me and half the time I do not get their jokes. It is the weirdest thing to hear a man’s voice in the next room and realize it is your child.
But it turns out that there really was nothing to be afraid of. These teenage boys are still my babies. They need me and I need them and while I know we still have many years ahead of us, I’m happy to say that being a mom to teenage boys is better than I ever expected.
I sat down with the boys to talk about all things teenage boy – Fortnite, phones, future jobs, and girls :)
That was fun. I hope you were entertained by those two crazies.
I sure love these teenage boys of mine.