I spoke to a friend today who found out she is about to have her third boy. Welcome to the club, I told her. The boys club that is. I don’t think you are officially in the club with just two boys, even though they can be a handful. It’s that third boy that seems to send a mother over the edge. How will I handle three boys?  I am but one. I have only two hands. Two eyes. There are only two of us. Three boys will….out number us…outsmart us….out….everything us. Trust me. I know. As a mother of two boys, you are up to your eyeballs in trucks, legos, rocks, dirt, frogs, bugs, more dirt. You dream of pink, bows, dolls, dresses, ballet classes. It all seems so…fairytale like. Sure, you have those people who tell you, “Oh, you got the easy ones. Girls are so much harder to raise.”  And you want to say, yeah, but I bet they are quieter…and cleaner. You love your boys…there is no doubt about that, but when you get pregnant for the third time, you convince yourself that this pregnancy feels different. You just know it in your heart of hearts that it is a girl. God wouldn’t give you three boys, would he? God can be so funny sometimes. What’s funny though, is that third boy, was exactly what I needed. He was the sweetest, snuggliest  baby, and to this day is the sweetest, snuggliest boy. I think that tends to happen a lot. I think telling her that, reassured my friend. I also told her about all the other perks of having three boys. I’s a great money saver because you can hand down all their clothes. They can also share toys, rooms...

Oh weary mother, Don’t give up! Keep persevering, Your time’s not up! I know it’s hard, This job you do. The hours are long, the accolades few. Your strength grows thin at the end of each day. You try your best to keep frustration at bay. Sometimes the attitudes are too much to bear. There is so much whining, It’s just not fair! Just trudge along, soldier, don’t give up the fight. Keep on teaching them what’s wrong and what’s right. Keep on answering all of their WHY’s. Keep on encouraging all of their tries. Don’t give into weariness, these days have a number! Don’t think of the hours you have lost in slumber! Your time will come to sleep till dawn… For before too long, they will be gone. There will be no more whining, and no more fights, no more deciding who’s wrong and who’s right. No more saying “Because I said so!” No more time to watch them grow. The job is tiresome! But the rewards are great! Your dedication can help to determine their fate. -Beki...

  Time I turned around, and time was cruel He snuck up in the night He robbed me of my little boy and with his youth, He took flight He stole the days of easy love days of staring into his eyes He stole the days of needing me of wanting me when he cries He left a feeling strange and new a place we’ve never been I keep searching, hunting for that time to see my little boy again – Beki...

It’s the first day of summer break, and I need to report a crime. I can’t really say when it happened. I feel like I am a pretty observant person, but whoever did it was pretty darn sneaky. Someone stole my babies, and replaced them with grown up man-boys. That’s right. I now have these three, tall, deep voiced, broad shouldered,nearly men-type creatures living in my house. Where did they come from? They can’t possibly be the pink squishy babies I birthed. The sweet innocent toddlers that giggled when I tickled their tummies and tiny feet. There is not a tiny foot among them now. There are just giant feet. Giant, smelly feet…with giant smelly shoes that I trip over all around the house. They shave, and wear deodorant…not as much or as often as they should…but it’s a start. They say things like…”Mom, can I use the car” and “Mom, can my girlfriend come over” and “Mom, can I go to such and such concert”….all in a very deep voice. I haven’t decided how I feel about these “halflings” yet. I mean, it’s definitely nice that they can kind of take care of themselves. I say that in the loosest way it can be said of course. I’ve managed to teach them how to do their own laundry…a feat I am very proud of, and I hope my future daughter -in-laws thank me profusely…but one of them still has no clue how to..um…make macaroni and cheese.   I know, pathetic. This is basic college survival, and he is going into his senior year of high school! I better get into gear on that one!  On the other hand, I am fully certain I could drop my youngest son off in the woods with...