Cowboys like us

Have you ever been woken up to two boys creeping around your bedroom in the pitch dark, on their hands and knees, full cowboy gear complete with hats? You hear whispers as they attempt to hide and as you wake up, and open your eyes, “Bang, bang, bang, Mommy! We got ya!”

Chaps, bandanas, hats, cowboys boots and vests- we received their “Cowboys suits” in the mail yesterday via Amazon Prime. Can you tell they’re a little excited? Honestly, I don’t usually wake up in a good mood, it takes me a few minutes (and coffee) to be myself. But I couldn’t help but giggle in our bedroom, in the dark, at these hilarious humans we’ve created. This Friday morning, they were ready and roaring. We’ve got a couple of cowboys on our hands now.

“How many days until Halloween?”

“I don’t know…26, Hunter.” I replied.

‘Ok, mama.” he seemed good with that.

So, the morning goes on… Deacon waddles down the stairs coming from the playroom. Have you ever pulled your child’s leg out of a piece of puzzle before? (Photo from this morning.) “Don’t laugh at me mommy.” I cant help it sometimes.

Just tell me how you did this, DD.

Strange things happen in a house with 3 boys.

Have you ever placed 3 band aids on a knee after you told them NOT to chase one another around your car at the bus stop? (Good thing I just bought super hero bandaids from Target.)

Or have you wiped 3 behinds before 9 AM on a Saturday? This does not necessarily go with my morning coffee.

Have you ever had to say out loud, “We NEVER touch somebody else’s throat or neck. Why? Because you can choke them and they could really get hurt or die.” Resorting to the most extreme of circumstances seems to hit home, in desperation.

I then go about my business and do the dishes, fold some laundry… “Mommy, have you ever met cowboys before? How do you know everything about them like how to tie my bandana?” Hunter asks.

Because Mommies are really smart. Don’t ever forget that. And no, I have never met a real cowboy before.”

“Yea, huh! You know US!” Deacon yells across the room.

Still in costume, “Yep, you guys are the real deal. Now, I know some real life cowboys. Yee-haw! ”

Have you ever received a message from your son’s teacher referencing the instance that day when your child mooned another kid in class? Yes, like “pants to the ankles” moon. Thankfully she is a seasoned veteran of 10 years. This isn’t her first rodeo, or mooning, for that matter and she handled it very professionally. “Oh my goodness. This will Never happen again. Thank you for letting us know.” I was so mortified, I had to share with another Mom. “Oh yeah, that same thing happened to us last year in PreK. That’s tough.” Thank God for my mommy tribe. Somehow feeling like we’re not the only ones helps, right?

Have you ever left your 3 children between 2 sets of grandparents for 24 hours to celebrate birthdays with friends and your parents’ “highlight” of the weekend is about the time they loaded the older boys in the car on the way to the park and a set of plastic handcuffs are affixed to the middle child’s ankle?

Where are the keys?

“We looked, we dont know.” They always answer for eachother. It’s like they’re twins, just 20 months apart.

In fear of looking like sadists, my parents then have to unbuckle everyone, comb the entire front yard and look to retrieve one of the 2 sets of little, plastic keys from the handcuff sets they picked out at the dollar store the day before (when they were supposed to be picking out a present for their Mom’s birthday). Eventually keys were found and they didn’t have to purchase another set of handcuffs (just for the keys) or break the plastic things (which wouldn’t be the first time).

But the next day I have a vase full of flowers. Well, it’s a small jar. And they have picked the little white flowers mixed in the clover in our yard. Like 50 of them, maybe more. The point is, they have picked their mama flowers and want me to display them proudly. They can be so sweet.

Have you ever cried laughing so hard before? Almost peeing you pants? On a daily basis? I know I do in this stage of life right now. I may be approaching “old” at 35 but these boys are giving me laugh lines.

I also stress about how we can possibly balance work, dinner, bath night, 2 hours of class and our boys each evening. Thank goodness for teamwork. The days are long and the years are short but the best thing we can do is laugh whenever we can, whenever appropriate, as much as possible.

Our boys definitely teach us to slow down and live in the moment. I sometimes think about how crazy my life may (or does) seem frantic to anyone else. And I also think about all of my friends who encounter the same ridiculous but daily things like catching puke in your hands or being bullied by a 2 year old or letting you child wear their pants backwards or shoes on the wrong feet or blissfully looking the other way as your child pisses in the parking lot. But I will miss this one day. One day all too soon.

But, I sit here this evening and am a bit on edge. Not by the cowboys, but by my teething, crying, super needy, typically happy baby who can’t seem to eat enough or be comforted today. A tooth must be coming soon. As his sweet little, fuzzy head has finally fallen asleep in my arms, I measure his little foot that is now bigger than the palm of my hand. I think, tomorrow he is 7 month old. 7 months have already passed by. Soon he will be walking and then talking. And then I worry that soon I will have three boys making fart jokes for the rest of my life. It isn’t ever going to end, right? I know that. I’ll be equally offended by fart jokes and flattered with flowers. I am a mother of boys.

I am honored and blessed to be chosen to be the mother of my three sweet, little boys, Hunter, Deacon and Wyatt. I pray every night that I can be the strong mama that they need. Thank you God for giving me all of this.

To whomever much is given, much is required.” -Luke 12:48

One thought on “Cowboys like us

  1. Pingback: The Real Deal

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s