Boys Will Be Boys

I've come to accept that I live in a severely estrogen challenged household. Basically, I'm it. I live with the constant sounds of hockey games, WWE wrestling, and boys talking about things that only boys would discuss. I promise you, as a child, my friends and I did not spend the afternoons comparing farts, burps, or who could pin each other to the ground the fastest. But in my house, that's par for the course. I swear, I look longingly across the street some days and watch how calm and politely the girls play together. There's no mud being tracked into their house, no pee covering the toilet seat, no Lego pieces hidden strategically where I can step on them (when I'm barefoot of course).

But honestly, I wouldn't change a thing about my crazy house full of boys. Being the only girl in the house has given me the chance to be the one they all look out for. The princess in a home full of doting knights in shining armor. If I step on that Lego and scream out in pain... My boys come running. If I lay down on the couch after a too long day at work, Michael's even been known to make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (just to be sure that I've eaten). They spoil me, love me to pieces, and fill my days with laughter.

These children are growing faster than I can handle. And no matter how high my frustration levels get on a given day -- I'm content knowing that Michael still wants me to lay with him before bed, that Matthew runs to me when I walk through the door, and my incredible man never goes to sleep without kissing me goodnight. It the simple, little things that matter the most. That's what living in a house full of boys has taught me. That life doesn't always have to be dramatic, gossipy or fake. Sometimes life simply has to be honest. And that's one thing I love about boys. They're rarely fake, they always speak their mind, and most of the time, they're not concerned in the least about what someone might think. It's a lesson I've learned to love.