On my personal Facebook page, I have a hashtag series, #motherofboys. I think my friends appreciate my take on parenting, as it covers all of the weird, and sometimes gross, things my children do. The other day I was considering how long I’ve been sharing my life as a mother of boys with my friends, and wondering what my past stories consisted of. So I searched the hashtag. And there was a treasure trove of crazy, gross, weird things they have done, going back almost 4 years.
My first one, before the hashtag revolution:
Laying down next to Chase to get him settled for the evening;
Shoves his finger in his nose ‘Ugh. Booger. Get it OUT of there!. . .’ Pulls his finger out ‘Momma. Lookit-ma-booger!’
‘Ugghhhh. . . Chaaaasssseeee!’
From the living room where Matt is supposed to be quietly reading;
‘UGH! I farted and it STINKS!’
In the home of boys.
This was 2014, making Chase not quite two years old.
And my most recent, dealing with two boys with two seperate contagious illnesses:
Doctor walks in the room: “so, he tested negative for strep, but positive for the flu. How long ago did little brother get tested for strep?”
“Less than a week ago,” I responded. “He’s on an antibiotic.”
“The likelihood that Matt will get strep on top of the flu is. . .”
“The little one spit a spitball into Matt’s mouth just before he was diagnosed.” I interjected.
“On second thought, we’re going to give Matt a Z pack.”
There is rarely a dull moment in my home. These boys of mine are some of the most intriguing creatures I’ve encountered. I can’t make this stuff up. Facebook wasn’t kind enough to give them to me in chronological order, and truthfully I know it didn’t give me all of them. But here are some of our best (and worst) moments.
“Mom. Feel right here. It feels weird.” Matt then stuck his foot in my face and pointed to what I thought was the sole of his left foot, just under his big and second toes.
“It’s a callous,” I said before even feeling it. I put my finger on the spot on his foot that I thought he had pointed at. He then promptly shoved my fingers in between his toes. “Feel how sweaty it is!”
In the car on the way home this evening, I was talking to Matt about his day. Chase was sitting quietly in his seat. I was wrapped up in my conversation with Matt and failed to notice what was on the radio. Until Chase popped up out of nowhere “Heh. BALLS!”
“Well. Thank you very much, AC/DC!” I said, noticing the radio. “Guess we’re changing the station.”
“Mom!” Chase cried. “He said BALLS!”
“Chase. That’s not a nice word.”
Matt had been stifling giggles. Now he burst out laughing, he couldn’t help it. He is eleven, after all.
There was a spider making a web between our porch rails. It looked mean, and Matt was slightly afraid of it. I grabbed the nearby weed killer and sprayed it.
“Be gone, thot!” Matt exclaimed.
“Did. . . Did you just call a spider a ‘thot’?!”
. . .
Idk if this is a #motherofboys moment or a #motherofMatthewB moment. . .
At dinner tonight, Chase opted to have eggs and sausage. He was chewing up a piece of sausage when suddenly, he sneezed; looked at his arm where he had properly tried to cover his mouth and apparently there was a piece of sausage there. He promptly ate the piece of sausage off his arm, turned and smiled at me. Gross. #motherofboys
“What was that?!”
“Matt. You can’t say ‘arse’.”
Swearing and farting. Smh.
At the kitchen table, Chase decided it was the perfect venue to show off his spontaneous burping abilities.
“Chase. I’ve told you twice now. Stop burping. It’s disgusting, and you’ve proven your point.”
He responded by taking a deep breath, as if to do it again. . . And farted instead.
“Hey Chase, I have something to tell you, come here!” Matt called to Chase. Chase ran to his big brother who he LOVES AND TRUSTS and Matt bent over and farted right in Chase’s face. Before I could even say anything or Matt could stand back upright, Chase’s foot came up and kicked Matt right in the privates.
Don’t be jealous, but I have a front row seat to the burping contest happening at my kitchen table during a nice Sunday dinner.
Matt just walked by me and farted.
“Really?! What the hell was that?!”
“That. Was thunder from down under!”
“Chase, you really need to get this room clean!”
“But mommmm! I’m thirsty!”
“Oh for the love of. . . Fine. Go get a drink.”
*takes extremely long time to get a drink. Curious, I wander out to the kitchen where the little heathen is finishing off a bottle of gatorade.*
“Sheesh, kid. Feel better?”
*burps in response. Four times*
Matt walked in the bathroom to wash his hands.
Chase yelled at him “MATT! I’M IN HERE!!!”
“Chase, why are you eating a popsicle yogurt while you poop?!”
“Matt, you’ll eventually have to match your clothes. It’s part of being an adult. “
“No I won’t. I’ll just get a job that has a uniform.”
Bedroom door opens. I was awake and trying to go back to sleep. It was approximately 730am.
“No! Chase! No belly jump!”
#motherofboys #happysaturday #nosuchthingassleepingin
“Matt. Pick up your socks and go get in the shower. “
“You heard me. Go get your stinky self in the shower!”
*hunches down like the hunchback of notre dame* “caveman no take shower. Caveman s’posed to stink.”
Matt really just sat here and farted multiple times in a row. As I gave him the ‘you’re disgusting at least say excuse me’ look he grinned and said, “I call that ‘A Series of Unfortunate Farts.'”
Because coming up with a somewhat clever joke makes it ok?!
Matt: Farts, starts waving it in my direction. “Smell the love?”
This conversation occurred over dinner. In a restaurant.
“I need to find out how to play the brown noise,” Matt said to me between bites.
“. . . The brown noise?”
“During World War Two, the French were experimenting and found a noise, a sound, that would make anyone who heard it. . . Their bowels would release.”
The preteen boy in me chuckled, the mom said, “Gross, Matt.”
“If I got ear plugs and just walked through school playing it. . .”
“At minimum, you’d get suspended.”
“Would you be mad?”
After careful consideration. . . “No. You could submit your findings in the science fair or something!”
He disappeared as soon as we got home. I apologize in advance for encouraging such a thing in the name of science. 😂
It’s all fun and games until your 8yr old throws a pillow at your 2yr old who has a whistle in his mouth, knocks him down and he cuts his mouth open.
It’s amazing how calm you can sound when your brain is screaming incoherently.
Chase is fine but ohmalife he bled a lot and my heart hasn’t restarted yet I don’t think.
And Chase keeps telling Matt to not hit him with the pillow again lol.
Why is it that I know for a fact there are 3 hammers in this house, possibly even 4. . . And I can’t find even one to use?
It was almost time for Matt to leave for the day, and I was in the bathroom getting ready for work. He poked his head into the bathroom. “Mom. There was a gnat.”
“. . .okay?”
“I smashed it on the counter!”
::deep sigh:: “I mean, congratulations? Do you want a cookie?”
“Millions of years of evolution resulted in me! Bye mom!”
. . .
It’s not often I turn on my garbage disposal to hurriedly turn it back off because it sounds like the blades are going to come flying out of the drain. But when it does its because there’s a lego spear stuck in it.
Apparently. American frogs shed their skin twice a week. . . And eat it. #funfact #motherofboys
Matt’s in the shower and Chase keeps turning the light off in the bathroom. In response to Matt’s yells Chase replied, “but Matt! It’s magic!” #smartasskids #motherofboys
I made the mistake of thinking I could take a bath with both my children awake.
Chase was engrossed in a movie, only half an hour into an almost 2hr movie. I didn’t have the heart to make him go to bed, nor did I want to wait for a nice relaxing bath. I gave him a snack and gave my bath a shot.
I swear I was only in there 20 minutes when I heard, “mom. MOM!”
“What, Chase?” I asked trying to keep the annoyance from my voice.
“You missed all the fun parts of the movie.”
“It’s over?!” No way. Wtf. “Go ask your brother to put something else on for you,” I told him, hoping to buy some time.
Soon I heard thumps and bumps and. . . Was that crying? Apparently putting something on tv meant a wrestling match. I tried calling to Matthew but the only response was more thumps and bumps and LOUDER yelling and crying. Oh for fu. . . I jumped from the bathtub, grabbed a towel and peeked my head out of the bathroom. “Really guys?! Can’t I relax in peace just once?! This is why bedtime is 930!” I closed the bathroom door and got dressed. Sigh.
I walked into my bedroom where my sheets were now off the bed and Chase sat innocently there, looking at me with his big brown eyes like the injured party.
“What the. . . Why are my sheets off the bed?!”
“Matt was trying to kill me.”
Ohmalife, these children.
Why, at 1045pm, does matt want to brush his teeth?
“NO! GO TO BED!”
“YOU’LL BE SORRY WHEN I GET A CAVITY!”
*deep breath* “Matt. You’ve been avoiding your toothbrush for the last four years like it was the flippin’ plague. Not a cavity in sight. You certainly are not gonna get one tonight.”
I mean, we’re talking he tried just going in the bathroom and running water to make me think he had brushed his teeth. When I caught on to THAT he began wetting his toothbrush. But then I noticed that for some reason his toothpaste never diminished. . . When I say he avoided it like the plague I mean I’m surprised he didn’t catch it due to his lack of oral hygiene! And NOW the punk wants to brush his teeth and try and use my own arguments against me?! Nope. Bedtime bud. You can brush ‘em in the morning.
Handclap by Fitz and the Tantrums is our new favorite song. “Our” meaning the boys and myself. When it comes on in the car both boys are in the back seat clapping. Tons of fun. So anyway, it came on Slacker just now. I was in the kitchen cleaning, Matt was in the bathroom, having just announced he had to poop.
Trying to be an annoying mom, I walked up to the bathroom door and started clapping along to the song as loud as I could. And my random awesome son was clapping along with me. On the toilet, clapping along to a song.
I just love him.
In the car with Matt after LEAP:
“Five, four, three, two. . . *burps the number one*”
“Just be glad it came from the attic and not the basement!”
He left his gifted education class and did THAT.
Turned the lights on in the boys room, threw Matt his clothes and told the boys to get up. I went and got dressed myself, came back and Matt’s fast asleep on his side with his shorts only half on. Chase was laying there with his eyes closed, picking his nose.
They aren’t always adorable lol.
“Matt. You really need to clean this bedroom.”
“But it isn’t my mess! Its Chase’s!”
“No! Really! Moooommmm. . . Chase made a bomb and see?! Stuffed animals flew EVERYWHERE.”
I think I’mma fight this battle another day. . .
Matt’s still sleeping so I’ve been cleaning. Spent the last hour cleaning and organizing the kitchen, and it’s a happy place again lol. I was all proud and excited until I walked into the living room and realized it looks like Toys ‘R’ Us exploded in there, after which a tornado came through. . . ugh. #motherofboys #fml #notenoughhoursintheday
Matt has jokes.
“Do you know how to insult a t-rex?”
“Yo momma so fat, she can’t even clap her hands. . . Hey, Chase. Yo momma so fat *mom look* . . . Yo imaginary other mom so fat she gives the bathtub stretch marks.”
Potty training is going fantastically. However I’ve been slightly worried because Chase hasn’t pooped since Sunday. I know this is part of potty training but the worry was still there. I knew it was going to happen just not when or where.
As I was making dinner I heard Matt yell excitedly. “Mom! He did it! He pooped on the potty! Ohhhhh but it stinks!” Of course I was at a part of cooking where I couldn’t step away without ruining the meal so I tried to hurry and told Chase to stay put.
As I turned around to go to Chase I damn near ran into him. And the poop filled potty he was holding. In my kitchen. Good-bye food safety!
“Mom! I did it! I pooped on the potty! And my poop is weeeiiiirrrrd. See?” Then held the potty up to me.
Sometimes in an effort to get Chase to mind, I have to create a fake competition. Matt is very helpful with this, and may have a promising acting career in his future if he so chooses.
Chase was not ready for bed this evening. So, appealing to his competitive side I announced that I thought Matt could beat him to bed. Chase was off like a shot, and I whispered to matt to let him win.
From the living room I heard a body hit the tile floor in the hallway and Matt exclaim, “OH NO! CHASE, I FELL! COME HELP ME!”
“Nope,” was Chase’s response. Curious as to how the scene would play out I peeked around the corner into the hallway to see Matt lying on the floor with his hand extended to Chase, begging to be saved. Chase stood in the doorway of the bedroom looking slightly uncertain. Win the race or save his brother? What a dilemma. Finally Chase walked cautiously to Matt, seeming to understand it could very well be a trick. I was very proud of him at that particular moment.
Until Matt entered the bedroom ahead of Chase and stubbed his toe on one of Chase’s toys, legitimately falling to the floor in pain. . . As Chase held his stomach and tried to keep from falling over laughing.
And, to sum it all up:
My ear has been burped in. My littlest Meeha has been blamed for loud obnoxious farts. My arm continually poked until I looked to see who the poker was, and Matt stands next to me grinning, “I like pokin’ people.” In his best hillbilly voice. I have wondered why I’m picking up underwear in my dining room. Had to pick up rock fragments from their bedroom floor so my vacuum wouldn’t get broken. Stepped on Lego guy helmets. Had to take apart my vacuum to get rubber bands untangled (which I don’t own any, for the record), and pulled empty candy wrappers from behind the tv, under the couch and between couch cushions, as well as one random one in a dirty sock. I am tired. But I wouldn’t change a minute of it. Except to have them pick up after themselves lol. #motherofboys
They’re gross, and foul, they fart and burp as another form of communication. . . But I’d much rather this boy mom life to having girls any day of the week. And that’s the gods honest truth. I couldn’t deal with another me, I’m not a fan of doing my own hair, let alone someone else’s, and dinosaurs are cooler than barbies. I am a very proud mother of boys, even when they make me shake my head in confusion, or the wrestling and fighting make me want to lock myself in a closet with a bottle of wine. Because who else would leave muddy handprints on me with a run by hug, or write “I’m sorry” – made out of legos? Who else would go see superhero movies with me or kick around a soccer ball or go hiking in the woods? Here is where I’m supposed to be, with who I am supposed to be with. My two obnoxious, gross, loud, dirty loving – boys –