Momma's boys

When I had boys I was relieved. No, really! I have never really wanted a little girl. Sure, the idea of them is fun when you think about getting them all dressed up in frilly, girly clothes and being able to paint their nails, get their ears pierced and having a shopping buddy. And that is where the fun would end for me. They reach a certain age, become hormonal (and that age is getting younger and younger from what I understand)and then you gotta tell them about periods and stuff. No thank you. I don't even like dealing with my own let alone someone elses. And the hair and makeup thing...I do my own and that's it. I don't know how to do hair so she'd just forever be in a ponytail or her hair would always be stick straight.

But there is something about boys that I just thought when I had them I would be like the uber cool mom that could and would talk to them about anything and everything. Only I'm not. I mean, they CAN talk to me about anything but I don't know that I want them to. Like puberty and boy body parts and stuff. I'll take a pass, thank you. When Ryan was in 5th grade his school had "the talk" with the class. We had talked to him about a few things but definitely not in the detail the school did. So he comes home and asks about body hair and more about puberty. And sex. All I could do was look at Steve and say, "this is all yours." I wanted to be able to handle it but I just couldn't. I could not look at his round little 5th grade baby face and tell him about ejaculation and such. Fast forward to 9th grade. The word "shaft" comes out of his mouth. Oh yes it did. I was pulling open a drawer that he was standing in front of and he says, I kid you not, "whoooaaa, hey Mom, you almost hit my shaft." CRINGE! I said, "don't ever say that word to your mother ever again." He just laughed. I thought it was both funny and gross at the same time.

And the music he listens to doesn't help his vocabulary or his sense of propriety either. "Bottom's Up" and "Bedrock"....yeah. It's all I can say. I'm not some strict, hypersensitive mom. I laugh at most of the stuff he does because he really is a funny kid. It's not a punishable offense to just be a goofy, dorky kid. He puts it all out there and is an honest, kind, good kid who is exploring his boundries. And mine. So he tells me a lot of stuff because he knows he can. And he asks me a lot of stuff because he knows he can. But he also knows that sometimes I can't answer and he just has to ask his dad.