'Shout Out' to my Brothers...

I am the mother of four boys…

And one daughter…

I always say that I have never second-guessed God for choosing to give me lots of boys and only one girl…

The Big Guy knows me and knows how I am…

I have two sisters, but mainly grew up with brothers because they were the closest in age to me.

Therefore, I understand boys… you know, snips and snails and puppy dog tails…

That…. and a bit more…

For instance - boys think that farts are hilarious.

This fact I learned at an early age, beginning with my three brothers who taught their sister more than any girl would ever need to know about the comical things one can do while passing gas -

1. Sneak up and catch an unsuspecting sibling who was watching Gilligan's Island or another of their favorite shows on TV - jump on top of them and do the dirty deed while holding them down so they can’t escape.

2. Light them – it’s possible… BELIEVE ME! (I’ve witnessed it with my own eyes!)

3. Compete for the loudest / smelliest / grossest – whatever suited their mood that day

There is more to boys though, than just cutting the cheese…

They also love to watch guys beat the tar out of each other on television
They feel a love, or at the very least, a deep fascination in all kinds of weaponry

Here’s the best part – they are pretty much an open book…
In other words - What you see is what you get!

I appreciate that about them

Girls are sugar and spice and everything nice
That, and a measure of drama, some cattiness and mood swings that would test Mother Theresa’s patience.
They are complex creatures that are multi faceted.

In other words - What you see isn’t necessarily what you get.
Even though I am one, I don’t understand "them"!

I don’t recall being all of those things when I was a teenager!
Surely I didn’t drive my mother to throw her hands to the sky and say ‘Give me strength!'

Or did I?

Looking back, I can recall a few of those kinds of moments, but I’ve also realized something about myself.
My brothers’ influences had a profound effect on the kind of girl that I became.
They taught me to not take myself too seriously.
To be an open book instead of a sparkly complicated creature
My feathers don’t ruffle easily.

They can also be ‘credited’ with my ‘rough edges’
(much to both of my sisters’ dismay)
But that’s who I am….

Mother of four boys and one girly-girl who like me, doesn’t gasp at the stinky boy stuff that we are subject to from time to time…

So I’m sending a “shout out” to my bro’s -
Thanks for everything! (except maybe for the times you sat on me and let one rip – and made me miss the part where Gilligan was finally helping them get off that doggoned island!)