Mamas Boys

I've been thinking a lot lately about the challenges of successfully raising little boys. Especially when they come in threes. All in a row. Because really, the biggest challenges I face in my household of boys stem from the dynamic of numbers...the sum of the whole is greater than any one if its parts. Now don't get me wrong, I love my sons. If, when I started this whole child-bearing enterprise I had been told that I could only have all boys or all girls, I sincerely believe I would have picked boys. However, there are certain things about raising lots of little boys that mothers of more mixed households simply will never understand. I'm sure that mothers of all girls could write a treatise on their own struggles as well; I would love to read it. It would be like learning about another country and culture.


We recently had dinner with friends who have 4 daughters. Much shrieking and melodrama resulted. Our friends explained that their girls, understandably, are a little intimidated/don't know what to make of boys. We were apologetic about our boys' wild rumbling and physical energy. Afterwards, I realized though, that my boys are every bit as intimidated/don't know what to make of girls. They just don't express their insecurities in the same way.

Here is what I wish everyone understood about families who have lots of boys. Boys are totally physical, and the more of them you get together, the more physical they become. My own children are getting older now and are not as much the pile of puppies they once were whenever I took them to a public place, but they still cannot seem to walk past each other without reaching out and touching, pinching, pushing, slapping, yanking, punching, grabbing, or spanking. So the next time you're at the grocery store or doctor's office and you see a mother with 2 or 3 little boys climbing, rolling, and pawing on everything and everyone in sight do NOT assume that she is totally out of control and should be reported to Family Services. Just smile at her encouragingly and reassure her that one day the same children who think of her as a jungle gym will become teenagers who hide out in their bedrooms.


Boys are sensitive too. Before my daughter was born and people would make misguided attempts at consoling me for my home's lack of estrogen, they frequently said things like, "at least boys aren't as emotional as girls." In my experience at least, this is completely untrue. My boys get their feelings hurt, wake up on the wrong side of the bed, mope when they're tired or hungry, and sometimes feel left out and lonely. This is part of being human, I think. The difference between boys and girls though, seems to me to be a difference of tenacity and expression. My boys can move on without holding a grudge; an admirable quality I think. And they are more likely to lash out physically when their feelings are hurt. My boys have gotten into trouble this way, by hitting a girl who was teasing them. If one had hit his brother, they would have just hit him back, or moved on to other things. I'm not condoning physical violence...it's an important thing to teach my children to work things out in a more respectful way. However, girls can be just as cruel with words as boys are sometimes with fists. This is a completely foreign concept to my children who have only two girls in their life--Mom, and baby sister. I'm hoping that they will learn more about how to deal with girls as their sister grows older, but for now, they don't have any real home-life experience with female peers.


Boys are freakishly independent...at least mine are. I don't know how much of this is nature or nurture, but all of my sons have gone through a needy infancy straight into a take-on-the-world childhood. This is both good and bad for me. I want all of my children to stand on their own two feet and be both competent and responsible, but every time they cut another apron string, I look back longingly to the days when Mommy was the antidote to every distress. I see mothers with daughters the same ages as my boys who still seem to be the chief source of consolation and confidence in the lives of their children. My boys seem to need less and less consolation and more and more recognition and acknowledgement of their independence.


Boys are less physically demonstrative than girls. Again, this is another debate between genetics and culture, but my little girl will snuggle and hug and kiss far more than her brothers ever did. I demand a hug and kiss every morning before school, and today I had to physically chase and hold down my middle boy. I guess it makes those unexpected gestures that show up from them every now and then just that much more priceless and sweet.

Boys don't want to talk about their feelings. As much as I want to talk things through with them, this is just not happening. It has taken me many years to figure this out. So, I am slowly learning how to "read" my children, understand their teachable moments, and discover the most effective way to communicate with them. My job is not for sissies or for quitters, that's for sure.

I guess the hardest thing for me to deal with on a day to day level is the obvious fact that I am not a boy. Whatever understanding I have acquired in my nearly 12 years of on-the-job-training does not change the fact that boys and girls are different. And I'm a girl. Not a psychologist.

But here are some of the jewels that we mothers of many boys alone get to experience:
-the day your 5-year-old tells you off-handedly that you are pretty--as if it has just occurred to him that his mother is someone more than the maid and the cook
-the preschooler who picks every last flower in the yard as a surprise bouquet
-the preteen who declines dinner at a friend's house because he firmly believes his mother is the best cook in the world
-the wrestling, clawing puppies who grow up to become loyal friends and brothers
-the "all grown up" second grader who shyly slips his hand into yours on the first day of school
-the look of pride and accomplishment on the face of a toddler who has just demolished his bedroom
-the endless supply of "collections" you would more likely term "landfill"
-that one day in a string of hundreds that the piano gets practiced without a reminder
-the unexpected and unexplained hug after dinner

These are the things that remind me this motherhood thing isn't so much a trial as a blessing. I am grateful for my sons. I was also grateful last weekend, when my boys were all playing together in a bedroom. My daughter walked in, came right back out and cried, "It stinks in there!" At last, someone who sees my world the way that I do!

Before and After

My 6-year-old son and I have kind of a role reversal when it comes to his hair. I always imagined there would be battles one day about getting his hair cut; I just never guessed I would be the one fighting to keep it long. He has such adorable natural curls that it breaks my heart every time I cut them off. He has been begging for literally months to cut his hair short like his brothers, so I finally had to give in.

This is how he feels about his curls. Personally, I think he looks handsome.

And here he is after I caved. He looks happier for sure, but he's just not my baby anymore.

Dizzy Disney

It has been a long time since I made an appearance on my blog. We spent a week in St. George and at Disneyland, and then I spent another week cleaning up my life from the chaos of travel. My kids are still off-track for one more week and Cory was gone all last week for business. Life is cuh-cuh-cuh-razy right now! Still, I thought I would post a few cute pictures from our travels for my family.


Zachary could not get enough of all the babies in our week of adventure. He loves to hold and cuddle McKinley, Joshua, and Xiana. Anna will not let him carry her around and baby her anymore, so he was in heaven.

This picture from Disneyland just makes me laugh. I think Noah was determined not to let me take a single decent picture of him all week. He looks either morose or crazy in every frame.


Our time at Disneyland seemed almost like two vacations instead of one. The boys will no longer consent to any time on the younger rides and Anna won't get on anything even remotely scary. That leaves only 2 rides in the entire park that the whole family would go on together--Autotopia and Buzz Lightyear.


Anna and I got to have a special lunch together with the princesses. She was equal parts shy and elated to meet one princess after another. It was the highlight of this trip for me.



A high percentage of every day in Disney for Anna is spent on the Winnie the Pooh ride. (It's right across from Splash Mountain which is the number one attraction with every member of the Talbot family with XY chromosomes.) Here Anna is with her favorite character of all, Eyeore!

The first day and a half at Disneyland there was not a cloud in the sky. We never waited in line longer than 5 minutes...it was ideal. The second half of our time it poured rain. Disneyland, it turns out is not as much fun in the rain...although it beats a sunny day almost anywhere else. In a way it was good because it forced us to stop and see a lot of the shows we have always ignored as just time wasted that could be spent on the rides. There are some really fun shows!

As usual, I was the saddest member of the family when it was time to leave. I just dread the day when there is no one interested on riding on Peter Pan with me anymore.