Boys

I found this poem in a book a friend of mine got me called 'Chicken Soup for the Soul - A Tribute to Moms'. The poem is titled 'The Mother of Boys' and I thought it went well with my most recent news. Although I do have one girl I can relate all but one of these statements.

THE MOTHER OF BOYS

I am the mother of boys.
I play goalie as I make supper. I can dribble a ball as I answer the phone and can assemble a train as I nurse a baby.
I am the mother of boys.
I measure a good day not by the weather or the company, but by the number of bugs caught, the quality of the sticks found, and the depth of the puddles splashed.
I am the mother of boys.
Fascinated ears listen to me tell tales of alligators, dinosaurs, and fast cars. I do load upon load of blue laundry; the only pink item to be seen is when a red sock makes its way into the white load. I check all laundry for reptiles and rocks.
I am the mother boys.
I most frequently say, "Not so rough," "Get down, please," and "Watch where you're peeing." I get dizzy watching little bodies run around any inanimate object.
I am the mother of boys.
I wipe forever-dirty faces and hands. At night, I am amazed by the many new bruises and scrapes. I join in prayers that thank God for airplanes and pirates and Smarties candies.
I am the luckiest mother on earth. I am the mother of boys.

Beverly A. Suntjens