The joy and the pain of an all boy household

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Photo credit: Lucas Ninno / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-SA

Boys rule in my house. There are four of us, there is only one of them her. There are no girl toys around, no girl television shows on and no pink clothing to be found in any rooms or closets. This of course didn’t happen on purpose, but it’s the environment we live in and there is simply no way to ignore it.

As the Dad in this mix, you might think it’s a regular dream world, after all, the amount of girliness around our place is almost zero. We have a bin of girls dolls that spends most of the time in the closet and is really just reserved for when girl cousins come over and have no interest in the dude stuff my guys spend their time with. But I actually grew up in a house that was much different than this. I had two sisters and no brothers, so the machismo around my house was pretty tame.

For me, there weren’t feats of strength, constant wedgies or regular outdoor explorations (I had asthma). But before you feel sorry for me, or make fun of me, I have to say that I was quite content. I had some friends in some neighborhoods who liked to do guy stuff, and plenty of cousins in the area as well. But when it was just the core family, I was pretty happy doing my own thing.

But now I’m the parent, and my current core unit took some considerable time to adjust to. My wife grew up with two brothers and knew the code way more than I did. There were plenty of things I realized right away that weren’t the norm in my house as a kid.

– Boys stink
– Boys leave their stuff everywhere
– Boys don’t care about anything, until they do.
– Boys eat everything
– For boys, farting is a competitive sport
– There are footprints everywhere, all the time

I’m not saying that I didn’t take part in some of that stuff at their age, after all, it doesn’t take more than one lad to accomplish plenty of their own mayhem. I’m just saying I didn’t grow up in that type of home. And I’m still learning about how to be a father of boys, almost every day. I’m learning that sometimes it’s ok to let them talk insanely about ridiculous things, it’s ok to let them watch the same movies 87 times, it’s ok to let them get dirty and it’s ok to let them laugh so hard that they cry just because somebody farted.

My boys are a true gift from God, and no matter what, at the end of the day, they are my boys.

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