You’ve probably witnessed them before—like a wild pack of animals unleashed in a playground, they’re loud, chaotic, and overflowing with energy. It’s hard not to watch as they charge around, their laughter echoing, before disappearing into a nearby thicket, their shrieks still audible as they go.
I used to feel sympathy for the mom of three boys—imagining the dirt, the endless appetites, the distinct smells, and the cacophony of noise. I would cringe at the thought of the messiness overtaking their home, convincing myself that I would never be in that position. My house would be pristine.
Well, surprise! That mom is me now.
As the mother of three spirited, clever little boys, I’ve come to terms with the delightful chaos. But let me be clear: taking these three out in public is an absolute circus. That’s why you don’t see us often. It’s a challenge.
My boys are great kids, but when they’re all together in public, it’s like an unfair battle. There’s my highly competitive and emotional 9-year-old, who never wants to let anyone down. Then there’s my 5-year-old, the art-loving jokester with big eyes and an infectious laugh. And we can’t forget the baby, who is the sweetest little bundle of joy (I could just gobble him up). And no, I’m definitely not trying for a girl, thanks for your concern.
When I was expecting my first child, I was fervently hoping for a girl, praying for the pink dresses and hair-braiding opportunities. I even shed a few tears during the ultrasound when I discovered I was having a boy. I wanted to embrace those stereotypical girl experiences, or so I thought.
But having a son was precisely what I needed—I just didn’t realize it at the time. You see, I’ve never been a typical girly girl. Sure, I enjoy dressing up and getting my hair styled, but the thought of playing princess every day during toddlerhood would have sent me packing. As a child, I preferred the rough-and-tumble play of cowboys, building with Legos, and climbing trees.
Fast forward to now, and I’m thriving as a boy mom. Our family enjoys adventures like hiking, exploring nature, and having wrestling matches in the living room on cold winter nights—what we fondly call “fight night.” With the baby now part of the mix, things are still lively, but it’s fun to toss him around on my shoulder occasionally.
Yes, we have our share of armpit farts, and Nerf gun target practice is a regular occurrence. There’s always a stray pair of underpants somewhere in the house, and brand-new jeans never last long without a hole. Items like mittens, shoes, and books seem to disappear into the ether, and their interests shift rapidly from Thomas the Tank Engine to Star Wars, then Pokémon to Minecraft. Conversations often veer into discussions about their bodies, too.
While we embrace the classic “boy” activities, we’re also learning important life lessons, like how to care for a baby, show empathy when we accidentally hurt each other, and express emotions. We talk about our beloved old dog, who was like an older brother to them and has passed on.
We’re not just a household of wild boys; we’re a family nurturing the values of kindness and compassion. And while families with girls certainly share these experiences, let’s just say we’ve only seen Frozen once, and it didn’t quite resonate. If you ask my boys about building a snowman, they’ll be more inclined to create an alien snow creature that farts.
So, the next time you’re out shopping and spot us—likely in a frenzy over toys or having a meltdown over snacks—be prepared for a whirlwind of noise. You’ll hear us long after we’ve dashed away into the world.
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In summary, my journey as a mom of three boys has been filled with challenges and joy. I’ve learned to embrace the chaos, appreciate the laughter, and treasure the moments we share.