where wildly different is perfectly normal
MOB: Moms of Boys
MOB: Moms of Boys

MOB: Moms of Boys

Once upon a long time ago I wrote a post titled The Sisterhood of Sons. It kept going through my head this afternoon as four OH MY GOD LOOK SOMETHING SHINY LET’S PLAY WITH THE WALKIE TALKIES C’MERE I WANNA FART ON YOUR HEAD WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT THUMP? boys descended upon my nice quiet house after school. I finally drove the two that were not of my womb back home at dinnertime, and yet the sheer volume of boyness continued.

I have been a Mom of Boys, a charter member of The Sisterhood of Sons, for nearly six and a half years now. And I have yet to figure these creatures out. How is it possible that a clean house becomes a sty that no self-respecting pig would inhabit within 8.135 seconds of a boy crossing the threshold? What brain cells are missing and/or not connected that makes them think I cannot hear them cursing at the top of their lungs from the other room? And how can they not notice that DROWNING THEMSELVES IN COLOGNE DOES NOT COVER THE SMELL OF DIRTY FEET AND EPIC FARTS?

My ears, they ring. My head, it pounds. My soul, it cries for another round. And then…

“Wow, mommy (they never call me mommy)! You look so pretty tonight! You always look so pretty, but tonight you look really pretty!”


“Mom, uncross your legs, I wanna snuggle on your lap.”

These creatures are unlike anything else on earth. Boys. They are gross, they are tender, they are aggressive, they are loving, they are infantile, they are men in the making. Forget snails and puppy dog tails, they are Legos and farts and silly jokes and made up dirty words and stinky armpits and bad clothing choices.

How I ever ended up with two of the best I’ll never know.


  1. I had spares yesterday too and the volume went up exponentially. So did the mess. I had them past dinner, so I also got to enjoy someone else’s picky eater. The advantage of long days with extra kids is that you know their parents owe you now!

    Legos+bad jokes+made up songs (but I’d say that even my 9yo still smells like a little kid, which is a smell I still like)

    1. Jen

      I don’t let my boys go over to their house because I’m not entirely positive the mom would be there. So the boys are more than welcome here.
      And trust me, my nine year old doesn’t smell like a little kid anymore! Not quite a teenager, not quite a kid. Just…ripe. 😉

  2. Benoit

    LOL !!!!

    You could have spoken about my boys !!!!

    I call A., 5, a “générateur d’entropie” …
    Entropy reaches highest peaks when he’s around. I never know what I will find in my own bed each evening LOL !

  3. Pingback: Tweets that mention MOB: Moms of Boys -- Topsy.com

  4. Amy

    Love this post Jen. I love being a Mom of Boys even with all that “boyness” going on in my house constantly. Not sure what I would do with a girl, except when she’s a niece and I can spoil the heck out of her and send her home!

Whaddya think?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.