Maintenance worker - Me!

I have often thought about how lucky I truly am for being the mother of four boys and ONE girl. Boys are so easy. They can be dirty, and not care. They can wear shorts of any color and a tshirt that obviously doesn't match, and not care. When they were toddlers they could be easily swayed out of a looming tantrum by shiny or slimy or creepy or crawley things. (SQUIRELL!)

I remember being a girl, not that I am not now, but the girl to my parents. THAT girl. Whiney, crying, "Where's my red sweater?", stompin', just plain ugly attitude to all in the house. I was the "middle child" and that apparently gave me certain rights to be a spoiled little diva I guess.

So when I was blessed with such a gift as boys, I was excited! Elated! In the scheme of things, boys are much less dramatic, most of the time. I guess this all depends on the type of maintenance you're used to tending to. High, low, high voltage, lawn, car, where am I going? I am wondering if my theory is really the most accurate. Although low maintenance on the outside, boys tend to be high maintenance on the matters of the heart. This is an area I am not sensitive to all of the time and not one I am always wanting to venture. I say this because I know that by asking a question I may receive an answer and it may not be one I want to hear. I'm just so used to being able to distract their thoughts (SQUIRELL!) with a good plate of roast beef and potatoes or tacos that when it comes to the serious stuff I fear I have failed at letting them know that I want to communicate with them.

They don't always come to me or my hubby, they just fester. Like me, fester. I've taught them FESTERING? I've failed miserably in this area. God leads me down this road often for a little roadside check up on my boys. I love God and all, but seriously? No more fly on the wall for me, I just don't want to know. Kidding!!!! I do want to know, I want to know it all. The good, the bad, the ugly, and the just plain wonderful. I am the mom and I want to wrap my arms around my little boy and kiss his road rash and goose egg and straighten his hair and repair any tears in the heart or delight in the shiny things of his teenage life or just stare......and thank God for my little boys!

Frogs and snails,

And puppy-dogs' tails;

That's what little boys are made of.

Sugar and spice,

And all that's nice;

That's what little girls are made of.

(Don't tell Sarah!)