You faithful readers already know that I have four boys. Those of you who have met me in person often ask me how my sons are doing.
There is something about a woman with four boys that is just a little bit different. Maybe it is the nervous jump we make whenever we hear a loud crash.
That comes from having so many things broken in your home by those four boys.
Perhaps it is the constant urge to lick your finger and wipe something off of a child’s face. Hey, I know it is gross, but our mothers did it to us, and we are just passing on tradition.
Let me tell you, it takes an extra supply of saliva glands if you are a mother of four. You need enough to go down the line and get all of those little faces presentable for the talent show, band concert, football game or picture day.
Once my husband and I realized that there was probably not going to be a fifth child, due to my sudden screaming fits whenever it was mentioned. We were satisfied with four boys.
I joined the four boys club with two of my friends. Both of them had four boys older than mine and they vowed that four boys were enough.
We made a pact and decided that, between the three of us, twelve boys were plenty.
That pact was suddenly broken when the first friend, at the age of 40, up and became pregnant. What was she thinking? I was not having a fifth boy. Why was she putting the pressure on the rest of us?
When the summer rolled around, she had her fifth child, a chubby little … girl!
We gave her a baby shower, wished her well and promptly kicked her out of the club.
Now, it was just the two of us, with eight boys to contend with.
Eight seemed like a great number. After all, they had a television show called “Eight is Enough.” We agreed with that.
We formed a dual-family basketball team, with enough to have three coming off the bench.
We beat out every other family at the tug of war during the annual neighborhood picnic. Who could compete with those eight boys?
Then, out of the clear blue sky, this friend, loyal comrade, trusted mother of four sons, adopted a n you guessed it n baby girl!
Well, my mother always told me to choose your friends wisely.
Now, it is back to four boys. No frills, no pink, certainly no Barbie dolls, just me and my men, four rough, rowdy, loud, energetic, fun, loving boys.
For the record, we are not having or adopting any girls! Or boys, for that matter.
Thanks for sharing.