Recently, I was at a Relief Society meeting and I met a woman who also had 2 boys the same age as mine. We were exchanging stories about our older sons misbehaving in school- which Jackson has been doing on a daily basis to his exhausted mother's dismay. This woman told me about her son (Jackson's age, 5 or 6) who put his hand down the back of a little girl's pants at school because she bent over and he saw her butt crack. I laughed and laughed with this fellow mom and her son's "adventures", while secretly grateful my son hasn't done something like that. Yeah...
The. very. next. week- Jackson had a substitute at school for the first few days of the week. We were super excited about this because every day he had the substitute he came home with the fantastic news that he had been on green all day, which means he'd made good choices all day and hadn't gotten into trouble. HOORAY!! Since the week before he was on yellow and red all flippin week. Sigh. On Thursday, his teacher returns and this time when he comes home I find out that he had to go the principal's office. WHAT!?!? My son!?!? I mean, he's a chatter and loves to giggle at the worst times possible, but to be sent to the principal's office does not sound like my child. Turns out, while the substitute was teaching his class, he decided to pull down his pants and rub his bare butt on the floor.
Why? Apparently he was trying to get a laugh. Yeah, real funny...
Part of his discipline was to write an apology letter to his principal. If you can't read it it says, "Dear Mrs. Bowman, I am sorry for pulling my pants down in class. I'll never do it again. Jackson"
The same week, Jim took Jackson to speech therapy and as they were leaving Jim was joking with Jackson and said something to the effect of, "you better watch it or I'll bop you on your noggin". In a full waiting room of children, their parents, and some elderly grandparents, Jackson screams, "Yeah, cause your noggin is your penis!". Jim quickly said, "um, no, no your noggin is your head, not your penis" but the damage had been done and this scene was already entertaining the very large audience in the waiting room.
After this "interesting" week, I can't help but shake my head and sigh while telling my husband, "You know, none of this would have happened if we had girls like I wanted". Girls don't randomly decide to pull down their pants to rub their butts on the floor or stick their hands down an unsuspecting pair of pants. Girls don't think noggins are penis'. Girls don't find fart and poop jokes funny from toddlerhood into adulthood. I was and still am a very "girly" girl and I always thought I would have girls. I never imagined that I'd only have boys when I became a mother. The thought never crossed my mind. My boys give my patience a run for its money every day. And honestly, I wouldn't change a thing. Some day these stories will be funny; and I will miss hearing little giggles coming from their room at night because someone figured out a way to slip the word "poop" into a sentence. Some day I will miss hearing the story of how they got the huge hole in their jeans at school for the second time in a week. And some day their little tiny voices will be big, deep robust voices of the men they will grow up to be, and I will desperately long to hear their little boy voices say their prayers at night. I don't know what I'm doing most of the time with my boys, but I can't imagine my life any differently. I was born to be a mother of boys.
The. very. next. week- Jackson had a substitute at school for the first few days of the week. We were super excited about this because every day he had the substitute he came home with the fantastic news that he had been on green all day, which means he'd made good choices all day and hadn't gotten into trouble. HOORAY!! Since the week before he was on yellow and red all flippin week. Sigh. On Thursday, his teacher returns and this time when he comes home I find out that he had to go the principal's office. WHAT!?!? My son!?!? I mean, he's a chatter and loves to giggle at the worst times possible, but to be sent to the principal's office does not sound like my child. Turns out, while the substitute was teaching his class, he decided to pull down his pants and rub his bare butt on the floor.
Why? Apparently he was trying to get a laugh. Yeah, real funny...
Part of his discipline was to write an apology letter to his principal. If you can't read it it says, "Dear Mrs. Bowman, I am sorry for pulling my pants down in class. I'll never do it again. Jackson"
The same week, Jim took Jackson to speech therapy and as they were leaving Jim was joking with Jackson and said something to the effect of, "you better watch it or I'll bop you on your noggin". In a full waiting room of children, their parents, and some elderly grandparents, Jackson screams, "Yeah, cause your noggin is your penis!". Jim quickly said, "um, no, no your noggin is your head, not your penis" but the damage had been done and this scene was already entertaining the very large audience in the waiting room.
After this "interesting" week, I can't help but shake my head and sigh while telling my husband, "You know, none of this would have happened if we had girls like I wanted". Girls don't randomly decide to pull down their pants to rub their butts on the floor or stick their hands down an unsuspecting pair of pants. Girls don't think noggins are penis'. Girls don't find fart and poop jokes funny from toddlerhood into adulthood. I was and still am a very "girly" girl and I always thought I would have girls. I never imagined that I'd only have boys when I became a mother. The thought never crossed my mind. My boys give my patience a run for its money every day. And honestly, I wouldn't change a thing. Some day these stories will be funny; and I will miss hearing little giggles coming from their room at night because someone figured out a way to slip the word "poop" into a sentence. Some day I will miss hearing the story of how they got the huge hole in their jeans at school for the second time in a week. And some day their little tiny voices will be big, deep robust voices of the men they will grow up to be, and I will desperately long to hear their little boy voices say their prayers at night. I don't know what I'm doing most of the time with my boys, but I can't imagine my life any differently. I was born to be a mother of boys.
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