Boys are Dumb


Sometimes I feel really bad for my daughter being in a house of mostly boys. If it wasn’t for me, she’s be truly the only girl because even the cats are boys.

Don’t get me wrong, she totally holds her own against her brothers. She is after-all a tom boy and when that doesn’t suit her, she is bossy as hell which she comes by naturally because she is my daughter.

It’s just that no matter how much she tries to be like the boys, she can’t be a boy. Those natural born, genetically given, imprinted girl tendencies will always come out . She can’t help it which means no matter how hard she tries she, like me, will never fully understand boys.

For example, whacking a tree with a stick. The boys do this. They get great joy in performing this task and will go at it for hours on end but when asked to explain why? Why do they do this? They will just shrug their shoulders and pick up a rock to throw at other rocks.

It makes no sense to me. I have just come to the conclusion that there it must have something to do with the penis. There must be something in that organ that makes these acts make sense to them. And since I will never have a penis, I will never understand it.

Claire is slowly grasping this concept.

It’s difficult for her. All she knows is brothers and their weirdness and since she wants to be included with her brothers and their play, it’s a daily struggle. But sometimes, when she’s feeling girly and those female tendencies are at their highest and she can’t take it anymore.

“… yeah and then Elmo’s head will explode,” Jake said in between bites of waffle.

“Next his body. It’ll explode all over the street,” Quinn chimed in making Jake and Hayden snort with laughter.

“And his purple blood will be all over the place making the buildings explode,” Jake said, gesturing with his hands.

“The explosion will be HUGE… EPIC!” Hayden added.

“Elmo’s exploding head,” Jake said, now beside himself with laughter.

“STOP IT! STOP IT!” Claire yelled at the top of her lungs across the breakfast table which made the boys laugh harder and broke me of my Facebook reading trance.

“Claire, don’t yell,” I scolded.

“But mom,” she whined. “Make them stop. Tell them to stop talking about explosions.”

When she said that word the boys snickered and giggled again like they were all 13 and in a room where there was naked boobies.

I sighed at her request. My sluggish not fully caffeinated brain trying to comprehend what was happening.

“Boys, stop it,” I said halfheartedly, just trying to keep the peace.

Claire gave me her, ‘mom that’s totally not gonna work’ look because she thinks at times she is a better mother than me and pushed back her chair to take her dirty dishes to the sink. The boys once again started discussing Elmo’s head exploding and purple blood going every where.

“Why do they have to talk about exploding so much?” she said looking at me, waiting for an answer that would enlighten her.

“I don’t know,” I said after a sip of coffee.

She wasn’t satisfied and she stared at me, her eyes begging for knowledge and understanding.

Then I felt like I could keep the secret no longer. I had to give it to her, I had to give her the only answer that has been keeping girl’s (and women) sane since the beginning of time.

“Boys are dumb.”


Mama’s Losin’ It


Bath Time

Bathing children in our house has always been a bit challenging, well maybe not really challenging but more on the interesting side.

When the triplets were little, we just put them all in the same tub together. The bathroom got soaked but that meant the floor was cleaned and mopped every other day and the kids had a great time. It was assembly line style, in out and done.

In the summer, bathing is easy. If the kids have been swimming, I called that a bath and if they haven’t… it’s running through the sprinkler in only your undies and sometimes we’d even get the soap out.

Man, I miss summer.

But in these colder months, we have to bathe inside. That’s not the problem since we do have indoor plumbing and all, the problem is that my children are of different genders. The majority being boys.

Boys like to be naked. They like to show off their naked and bath time is the perfect time for this to happen.

Also boys and modesty don’t go hand in hand. What goes hand in hand with a boy and bath time is touching their junk. If I had a nickle for every time I had to tell some boy in this house to stop ‘tickling their pickle’, I would be a very rich woman.

Since the boys were babies they have always had this want to play with their ‘man member’. Take that diaper off and the hand goes straight for it. It’s like a new toy.

But as the kids have gotten older they are becoming more aware of not only their own bodies and those bodies around them. That means it’s time to teach them about privacy and I get to say a whole new thing, “We don’t touch our brother’s penis!” at bath time.

This also means its time for girls and boys to have separate bathes.

Also, it should be noted that the triplets really didn’t fit in the tub all together anymore.  They were squished in there tighter than sardines in a can.

So Claire has a bath by herself, Hayden takes a shower and Jake and Quinn take a bath together.

Someday, I hope all the kids will shower because it’s just easier but right now if you put a triplet in the shower they scream bloody murder and claim the water hurts them  like nails being spit at them. Oh the drama!

But with this separation of girl and boy siblings, ultimately giving the boys more room in the tub, something has happened that I did not expect.

The touching of the ‘man meat’ had increased to the point where I wonder if it might fall off. I mean, I get the whole self exploration. I get that it feels good and that’s why they do it. It’s only natural and a part of growing up. It’s just that I don’t want to see if every time I walk into the bathroom.

I am seriously thinking of teaching them the old ‘sock on the doorknob’ trick that college kids use. At least then, I would know to come back later.

Other wise I walk into the bathroom to help them wash their hair and one of the boys tell me, “Mom, I’m just trying to make my penis fart.”

Then I have to say, “Um, I’m not sure it’s supposed to do that.”

To which the boy will answer, “Yes, it can, see watch.”

And then I get very confused… very, very confused and leave the room feeling uncomfortable.

Yeah, I can’t wait until we can just go back to using  the sprinkler for bath time.

A Morning Surprise

Just before bed the phone rang calling the husband into work, a child cried out with hurting ears and I knew there would be no rest for the weary.

Nights of little sleep make me sad.

So when the alarm rang in the morning, I wanted to throw it out the window and continue to sleep snuggled warm in my bed with Jeff who had only joined me only a couple hours before.

But school waits for no man so after hitting snooze for the third time, I finally threw back the covers, shoved Jeff awake mumbling “Shower… you… now” and walked into the kitchen .

Thank God for my Keurig coffee maker, add a cup, push a button and soon sweet wonderful coffee is in my cup.

As the coffee brewed, I saw two of my sons sitting on the couch, one seemingly watching TV and the other playing the DS.

“Morning, boys,” I said.

“Hi, mom,” they both answered.

I glanced at the clock and decided that the other two sleeping children could wait because after a night of little sleep dealing with two children at a time is easier than deal with all four at once.

“It’s a school day,” said warning the two boys that they would need to be getting ready soon.

They nodded.

Before I gathered clothes from upstairs, I decided morning snuggles with my boys was in order. What could be better than starting the day off with some hugs and love from mommy?

I stumbled into the living room, leaned down to hug one son when I saw it.

I was not prepared for this sight. It caught be completely off guard so I screamed,


My scream startled the boy and soon pants were being pulled back on and body parts were once again hidden.

For what I had stumbled upon was my son, shinning the helmet, rubbing one out, flogging the dolphin, in words touching himself.

As I watched my son instantly feel shame and hide from me, I felt bad.

This was totally not the way to handle this situation. I don’t want my children to feel bad or ashamed about touching themselves. Exploring your body is only normal. It’s a part of grown up. I just don’t want it done in the living room, while watching TV, for everyone to see.

“I am sorry,” I said to my son, “Come on, you don’t have to hide. It’s alright.”

My son rose his head up from the corner of the couch and looked at me.

“It’s alright to touch yourself, but that is just something that needs to be done in private. It’s something that you should do in your bedroom by yourself…. ok?!” I explained.

The little one nodded his head.

“Yeah,” my other son began, “I used to do that all the time but now I stopped because doing it so much kinda made my penis hurt but maybe I will start it again.”

I just stared at my son.

“Don’t worry mom,” he added, “I will do it my bedroom, privately because this is a private matter.”

I gave him a half smile, nodded and decided it was time to involve an expert on this subject… their father.

My Brother’s won’t Play with Me

“Mommy!” Claire said at me from across the room, “my brothers won’t play with me.”

“Boys,” I said not even looking up from what I was doing, “Play with your sister.”

I continued working in the silence that followed thankful that this was an easy fix.

“Mommy!” Claire said at me again, “my brothers are still not playing with me.”

This time I got up and walked into the living room where all the kids were.

“I want to play restaurant,” Claire said, “but my brothers are not playing that with me. They are being animals.”

“Quinn,” I pleaded, “Can’t you just play restaurant with your sister. Please. I just have to finish this and then we have to get dress and got to the store.”

Quinn didn’t say anything but gave me his, ‘you are crazy and I don’t want to’ look.

“Come on, Quinn,” I pleaded with him some more, “I will give you a chocolate chip.”

A smirk spread across his face and he nodded.

“Yeah!” said Claire with a clap of her hands.

And with that they both ran off downstairs.

“I will be the chef and you be the waiter,” Claire said, “and then we will bring food up to Jake. I hab a nice restaurant so you will have to be a good waiter.”

I smiled at Claire, so much like me. Always has to be the leader of the game.

The playing continued for a few more minutes and then I heard Claire stomp up the stairs.

“Mommy,” she said with great disgust, “my brothers are not playing right.”

I have to admit that I was a little annoyed at this point in time. Why couldn’t they all just play nicely together. They are triplets for goodness sakes. Three kids the same age. They should be instant best friends and playmates.

But as I walked into the living room and saw Jake and Quinn rolling around on the floor attacking each other with toy swords and growls, I knew what the problem was.

I was instantly taken back to when I was little and I knew what Claire was missing… a sister.

I grew up with a little sister and I have wonderful memories of the two of us playing together. We would make elaborate houses for our Barbies. We would take all our mother’s pots and pans outside to play restaurant. We would over run the basement with our baby dolls during a Saturday filled with playing house.

My heart kind of broke for Claire because even though she was surrounded by siblings, they were all boys. And boys just play differently than girls.

She was just not interested in a stimulating game of riding bikes outside as fast as you can because your brother is throwing sticks at you. She wanted to play babies and tea party and restaurant.

I pulled Claire up into my lap and said, “Why don’t you move your restaurant upstairs by me and get some of your stuffed animals to be your guests. We can set them all up around the table and you can be the chef and the waiter.”

She smiled at me and quickly jumped down to do just that.

Soon the table was packed full of stuffed animals who all had a plate and a cup of tea. Claire busied herself writing their orders on her paper and running back down to her kitchen to fill them.

Jake and Quinn had stopped the wrestling and were now curious. They crawled into the kitchen telling Claire that they were hungry. And Claire being the gracious host, invited the lion and tiger into her restaurant for something to eat but on one condition.

“You boys, need to behave!” she said with her hands on her hips, “And if you fight and wrestle, I will throw dishes at you.”

I hid my laughter in my cup of coffee and then as Jake and Quinn took their spots in the restaurant, I bent down and told them they were doing a really good job being a nice lion and tiger. I even slipped them a chocolate chip treat.

They smiled and both sucked the chocolates up from the floor.

Because let’s face it, I can’t give Claire a sister, my baby maker has closed up shop, but I can encourage calm from her brothers even if that means I always have to have a bag of chocolate chips handy.

The Stages of the Man Part

As a registered nurse and mother, I have seen and have experience with my fair share of body parts. But never has there been an organ that gives me more food for thought or pause then the penis.

That’s right, I said penis.

Maybe its because I don’t have one or the fact that at home Claire and I are surrounded by them but I just don’t understand the penis.

Well, that is not right. I understand the penis. I know what its for and how it works so I guess what I don’t understand is the fascination with this body part.

A friend of mine were chatting over coffee and because we are both mothers (and nurses) our conversation ended up on the topic of penis’, little boy penis’ in fact.

After our discussion you could say that I had penis on the brain and I came up with three levels of penis fascination that in my opinion men/boys seem to go through.

I am going to start with oldest and move to youngest since I have young boys in my house and currently, that is what I have the most experience with.

“Don’t Laugh Stage”

This is that stage that most older men that I come into contact with in the hospital are in. They make jokes about how small and wrinkled their man part is. They ask me not to laugh because it’s not are vibrant and it once was. Because I am a professional, I just nod in agreement or smile nicely. It’s really awkward. I don’t like this stage.

“You Gotta Touch It Stage”

Now this stage seems to be the stage that covers most of a man’s life. It’s a long stage so while you are with a man during this stage you just have to hang on and go with it. I first learned of this stage when I was about 17 and was dating this day who tried to force my hand down his pants while we lay on the couch watching a movie. I didn’t date him long.

This stage also covers the husband. You know when your husband comes up behind you when you bend over to empty the dishwasher or pick up a toy and gyrates all over your behind. It’s because they just need to have their penis touched by you or any part of your body. They almost can’t help it. I don’t like this stage, its annoying.

This stage includes the youngish immature males who when walk into a room of woman and grab and thrust their crotch towards you. They are trying to sell you their package in order to get you to touch it. I think someone needs to tell them that this action is dumb and not the best way to attract a female. Again, I don’t like this stage, its annoying.

“I Gotta Touch It Stage”

This is the stage that is ruling my life right now because this is the stage of young boys. When you remove that diaper and put them in underwear its like you opened up a whole new world for them and just gave them a new toy. The diaper removal is like giving them permission to grab, yank, touch, fondle, yank, pull, tug and play with this new toy all they want.

Sometimes it gets so bad you have to remind them that it is attached and doesn’t come off. They also have to learn, sometimes the hard way by a swift kick to the face from a brother, that other little boy’s penis are not for touching.

They are just fascinated with their penis and no place is off limits when it comes to playing with it, even when standing up in the front of church.  I don’t like this phase, it’s embarrassing.

So there you have it, my thoughts on the penis. Well, not all my thoughts but I am going to save those other thoughts for an anonymous post at Blogging Dangerously.

And just so you know, I do not claim to be an expert on the penis. These stages may or may not be true but rather just things that I noticed that the men around me go through. I am sure there are more ‘stages’ I just have not experienced them… yet.

Will They be Like Me?

After you have a child and when the nurse places that child into your arms for the first time ,as exhausted as you are, you gaze into their tiny face and dream about the future.

You begin to wonder what life has in store for them. What will they be interested in? Will he/she have any special talents. Will this little person someday follow in your footsteps?

Even though we all want our children to follow their own path and be their own person if you are anything like me, I hold this little glimmer of hope that they will hold some of the same interests as me.

Hayden is a clone of Jeff.

When he was pulled out of my belly, the first thing I thought I had was that he looked exactly like Jeff. As time went by, Hayden proved to just more than look like Jeff, he also acts like Jeff and has many of the same interests as his father.

I think this bond that Jeff and Hayden share is really cool.

Jake and Quinn, on the other hand, are different not only from each other but also from Jeff. They dont’ seem to be on the same path as Hayden. Jake takes after me in his need to be the center of attention and imagination and Quinn is shy like I was as a kid and cunning like Jeff was as a kid. These boys appear to have parts of both of us.

Then there is Claire.

Now, I never wanted her to be just like me. I was hoping that she would maybe have some of the same interests as me but instead of pointing her to the stage and putting the spotlight on her, I need to be contacting Rocky’s trainer Micky Goldmill.

If you can’t see the video, click here

For the Birds

Sometimes you just need to put your boys in a cage, hand them little sticks and sit back and watch what happens.

Also being prepared for questions about bird poop would be a good thing too.

Jake was the one that stared us off on this topic.

“Mom, why is bird poop white?” he asked.

“Uh,” I said racking my brain for answer wishing that the zoo had a better connection for my phone to get out on the internet or the question has been asked of daddy, “I am not really sure.”

“I know!” Hayden chimed in.

I looked over at him. I had no idea what he was going to say but was curious enough to give him the opportunity to educate us.

“Well then, do tell,” I encouraged.

“You see,” Hayden began, “just before a bird has to poop someone comes up behind it and scares it. Then the poop comes out white.”

“Huh,” I said, “I guess I could see how that works.”

“Yeah!” the little boys screamed.

“Come on guys,” Hayden said, “Let’s go find some birds to scare.”

And with that they were off.