*I* am the mother of boys. This is a fact. I have been since birth. Frogs, toads, lizards, snakes, small or large rodents – always my favorite.
pink – definitely not.
Dirt, cow-pies, canals and pastures are where you could find me. Happily.
clean – definitely not.
As I was watching folks at the soccer arena (where I spend all my free time now), I made an observation. *Parents* of boys and girls are different, not just the kids themselves. As most of us know after all, up to a certain age, they’re all the same anyway! (The kids, not the parents)
As we’re rushing our way in 3 minutes late to my 3rd game of the weekend (3rd time late) and hoping my youngest has all his clothes on. Our conversation in the car on the way over being, “Do you have BOTH socks on and 2 shin guards? Do you have the CLEAN blue shirt on… did you put on underwear??” Yes, I know, I could have just looked before we left, but remember we’re late. I was busy getting his water, telling his brothers not to set the house on fire and being told by the oldest what time he’d be home, all while he was doing his best to tie his shoes at a snail’s pace. (The 9-year-old, not the 16-year-old)
Luckily he wore both shoes… this time.
I was happy he made it out to the field complete. Short, buzzed hair to aid in my sanity. I don’t think he or his brothers even know how to brush/comb their hair? (I did stop at velcro shoes!) Color coded boxes, dishes, blankets, pillows and marks on their laptops, books or matching toys. Matching, nondescript soccer items placed in a “communal bag” so there is no mad, crazy searching at the inevitable last-minute that we head out, just grab and go! (Well, that’s at least the way it was supposed to work)
Why does all this matter?
As I look around at all the other families. The 5 girls on his team (yes, he’s the only boy – my little stud!) Hair tied up in cute little bow’s, flashy little soccer socks above their shiny pink/purple cleats. Water bottles that match their mother’s or sister’s (one set of twins, another set of sisters). Shirts with cute sayings, not a stain on them!
They look like they spent all morning getting ready and were there in plenty of time for not just the game, but practice as well. I’m sure *their* mothers even fed them before the game.
What? We’re supposed to feed them too?
If you were to watch a mother of all boys and a mother of all girls walk into a building, 9 times out of 10, you’d know which-is-which with out the kids in tow.
I will say that the mom’s with a mixed gaggle are a bit tougher to pick out? I hate to call them “normal”, I mean really – what IS normal? But they’re the closest anyone can really get.
How do you pick out one of each?
The mother of boys looks like she’s just happy to have made it. Hair is usually in a ponytail, pulled back, put up or short. How do you plunge a toilet or remove shoe prints from the ceiling with your hair in your face? Clothes may match, but that’s most likely because she’s dressing out of a basket – no time to actually put the clothes away, so they may be the clothes you saw her in last week at this time. Don’t worry – they’re clean! Tennies – always! As the boys get older, the tennies get fancier! Make-up… hahahaha! Yeah right, the boys used that as war paint several years back. (No worries – there’s pic’s for future girlfriends!) Coffee in hand – probably not her first one of the day.
Mothers of girls on the other hand, bless their hearts, show up like a fresh daisy! (Have you ever smelled a daisy btw?) They may be hurried, but they look great in their rush! Perfectly quaffed hair done, and I mean done. Blow dried, brushed, curled/straightened and sprayed… with something? What is that? Make-up, done just right (ok, sometimes there’s way to much, but really, they made the effort). Their clothes match, not out of necessity, but because they actually shopped that way. Even their shoes match! They chose an outfit that morning and went with it – FANCY! Her water bottle in hand – probably not her first one of the day.
I can’t claim to know the intricacies of their lives, never been there. But it seems very put together?
There *are* of course exceptions to these rules – there always has to be that ONE woman who throws everything off. Boys with no stains and girls with hair that goes everywhere (I like that girl!).
As the boys get older some of these things get easier. I even brush my hair everyday now. But I’ll never be the mother of girls, we’ll see how I do with grand-girls?
I do admire these women, they have something I don’t and at times think I could, quite possibly enjoy – sanity. But God in his great wisdom knew what would suite me best and sent pink bundles to women who know how to match.
Besides, who would I blame the frogs on…