Mum of 3 Boys
I love reading humorous blogs from other fun mummy bloggers, they are the ones I follow and read regularly. I can be funny too..you have to have humour to get you through the tough times! Here are my personal good, bad and ugly bits of being a mum of 3 boys.
The Bad and the Damn Ugly
Let’s cut to the chase and start with the gross stuff. The wee. Every single day (except today as the children are at their grandparents for the weekend!) I walk into the downstairs loo and the nice upstairs family bathroom and find either a) wee on the seat b) wee under the seat or c) wee on the floor. First wake up wee goes everywhere, rushed pre school run wees go on the seat, as ITS NEVER LIFTED UP. Jack the four year old wees like his brothers, standing up, so wees all over the seat or on the floor if he doesn’t get there in time. And if I don’t check the floor I get wee on my feet or the floor gets a wee soak for a day. The beautiful floor tiles and grouting slowly turning wee yellow. I hate it.
Whilst we on the subject, the poo, here is a picture of poo. I am trying to get them to only poo in the downstairs shower room. It’s near the front door for fresh air. Josh, no matter how many times I have said it, poos with the door open and does not flush the damn thing. I think I have asked him maybe 47 times to flush the toilet. Nope never does it. And they always leave a mess, if you get what I mean. That toilet brush gets used every day. Those poor friends who dash in for a quick wee, many I can tell you, have seen some horrors. My poor friend Dariel, who doesn’t have children, saw something she never wants to see again. I doubt she’ll ever use that downstairs loo again. #trainspotting
It’s an obsession. Now I understand it starts at the age of, well with my boys in the womb, I am sure one of the scans showed Jack holding his *****. And it lasts forever. Jack is the most amusing as he loves being naked. He’ll just sit there for hours watching Planes or Toy Story or whatever his current obsession is and just plays with it, or stretches it, or sticks his finger in it. Josh and Dylan are now a bit more covered up, but will still sit there watching TV with hands down shorts or lie in bed holding *****. I know this is normal for a boy, but it’s weird for me the only female in the house.
The burps and the wind.
Dylan burps all the time, I know sometimes you have to, well I do it. But really do you have to burp after every drink or after every mouthful of food. And when we’re out in public?? They all think it’s hilarious. Jack has now learnt if you down a glass of water (yeah he drinks a whole glass of water) you can then do a burp marathon and almost create a tune. The poor littlest one of three learns all the bad habits. Then there is the wind, not helped by their father to be honest who doesn’t set a good impression. I ask them to go outside or go to the downstairs loo to do it. They ignore me. Sometimes I just give up and have to join in.
The toys and the mess and the mud
We have a lot of toys, common to families with young children, but I just seem to get more and more as Jack gets even more plastic large toys. I really should get rid of a lot of this stuff, sell it! I have an army ride in jeep, blue push along little tykes car, giant tipper truck, giant car transporter, 2 garages, 6 bikes (I still need to sell a few), golf clubs (not just football), 2 huge goals one in garden, one in bag to take to park and about 67 footballs. Everywhere I walk in the house I step on Lego or a car. But hey it keeps them happy. There is a lot of mud, often in the house. Which then multiplies up to one of my biggest hates washing. I need to do one load a day to keep on top of it, but I don’t and I end up with a pile of 6 loads of washing. I hate it. There is currently a huge pile of clean clothes in our bedroom to be folded and put away. I hate doing that too.
A hug from your son
A hug from your son is the best thing in the world, all three boys are all still small enough to want to give mum and dad hugs. We’ll sit on the sofa together or we’ll lie in bed together reading a story (okay that doesn’t happen too often, stet watch TV). They need hugs when they are hurt, they need hugs when they are nervous, they need hugs when they have done well. It’s very cute.
Pride in Children
I love the look on their face when they have done something that they know I’ll be proud of. Gosh the feeling of pride with my children is so overwhelming and often bring tears to my eyes. Yesterday was the end of the first full week at school and Dylan came home wearing the effort badge. He explained everything he did to get it, something to do with another boy ‘breaking wind’ and him keeping the laugh inside and his teacher being very proud of his effort. See my point 4 from the bad section. He’s learning;-). He made such an effort with his maths (mummy’s boy) homework which he handed in early. He did it all by himself, with a little bit of discussion and why maths is everywhere. I told him about maths in horse racing and how betting works, %’s and fraction;-) He loved that. Anyway his face was an absolute picture when I told him how proud I was of him winning the effort badge. My heart melted with the look on his face.
Eating Everything in Sight
As they get older they eat everything, so wait mummies and daddies of girls and boys who are fussy. Once they hit around seven-eight and they are burning 3000 calories a day with football, running, scootering they stop becoming fussy. Dinner consists of a piece of chicken, beans and mash and Dylan will want seconds. The moment he gets in from school he needs food, I often lie and say there is only fruit in the fridge to force him to at least eat 3 fruit/veg a day. Josh is still a bit fussy, but I can see him changing and he loves talking about what food is healthy and not. We discuss the nutrition of a footballer in preparation for this season. With Jack I am proud when he manages not to poo in his pants or on the living room floor, simples.
So I realised from a young age that you cannot dislike football. One of the only ways to talk to my dad was to discuss football. I learnt the rules when I was about seven. Talking to boys at school about football was impressive. Going to watch the lads as teenagers was fun, especially if your boyfriend was playing. And then in the working environment, I bought an Aston Villa shirt to wear when I was a barmaid whenever villa games were on the big screen (randomly chosen team as I liked David Platt in the 1990’s, I know, I am not sure why I thought like that in 1996). In the corporate world football is useful to break the ice with some men. I learnt a few stats and news, boys loves football stats. Hubby is obsessed with football, as are my three boys. They play every day if you include their practise sessions down the park with daddy. Jack although too young, can dribble and kick a ball with accuracy. Josh is so good that Arsenal took his name down as one to watch during the summer after scoring the best David Beckhamesq free kick in the world. So I embrace it and I love it. I go to every training session that I can. I have never missed a game they have played in. I love doing it for my boys. I am hoping it’s all paid back when they are the first three brothers to play for England:-)
Boys can’t hide their feelings, they can’t hide their disgust or excitement or love or sadness. Their eyes are like an open book. I love that I can ask them any question and I instantly know if it’s the truth or not. Handy in argument situations that are fairly common. Jack’s a bit more challenging to work out as he blames Dylan or Josh for things if they did it or not. All depends whom he wants to get into trouble. And then he gets away with it and sit innocently playing with his ***** watching Planes.