After a great start and then pathetic fizzling out a couple years ago, I've decided to give blogging a try again.
Welcome to "M.O.B. Mentality", with M.O.B. standing for Mother of Boys. I figure I'll start an online community/support group that can then spill over into informal gatherings of us mothers of boys where we can commiserate and share tips and coping strategies for managing the crazy whirlwind that comes with having boys in the house. (And yes, that includes husbands who really are just little boys trapped in big bodies.)
I figure eventually my witty ramblings will get me noticed by Oprah and then lead to a book and movie deal as well as my own nationally syndicated talk show (US-based, of course, because who watches Canadian television, other than my mother?). From all that, I will become a gazillionaire and can live out my dream of travelling the world, with my unruly mob, and helping those less fortunate. Sounds completely reasonable, right?
I'm sure those delusions might have something to do with my severely sleep-compromised brain, but heck, stranger things have happened, so why not dream big. Not quite sure what I'll be writing about, or how often, but I'm sure J. (soon to turn 4 but going on 14) and M. (three months next week) will provide me with lots of material.
Today, J. wanted to jump on his bed and when I told him no, he informed me that he was going to run away. And when I asked him where he planned to go, he said "on an adventure by myself and then you'll be sad." I really didn't think I was going to have to deal with that kind of drama until the teen years, but then again, my little genius always has been wise beyond his years.
With that, I need to go feed M. The little bugger is not getting on board with my "sleep through the night" program. I suspect it could be a growth spurt because we had been doing okay, but this is the second one in three weeks, so perhaps he's just becoming a snacker. I'm trying to power feed him today so he'll have a full belly and stay asleep for a good chunk of the night. Wish me luck.
M.
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3 comments:
OK, I'll be the first to comment! J keeps telling me (when I try to tell him what to do)that I'm not in control. I keep telling him that yes I am, I'm the adult and I can buy candy whenever I want. He doesn't really know what to make of that, but it makes him think!
Hi! Great blog - love the name. As a fellow M.O.B., I can relate. Why is it that when I place a desperate call to my friends asking for some company at the local "run, climb, jump and practice punching things" venue, the ones who have only girl children say things like "oh, we're colouring this afternoon". WHAT? Colouring...for the entire afternoon? Colouring lasts 40 seconds in my house and is usually followed up with a rousing game of "how far can these things go up your nose?" As an arty-crafty person, I am having to adjust to a house where obstacle courses and fort-building reign and stickers are just for holding race tracks together when there's no tape.
Excuse me, someone is stuck between the fridge and the wall again. Ciao.
as a FOB....no I think I prefer F.O.E.H.B.O.T.D.O.T.P.M.S.
Loosely translated as: Father of evil helions on the destruction of their parents mental stability.
I love how parents of girls have no idea the difference of raising two boys can be --- and you havent even hit two kids talking yet. Love Kelly's response on the colouring factor. Being married to Martha Stewart and the frustrations of her crafts with boys is funny and painful at the same time. The last time my boys did a "craft" for more than 30 minutes was when I gave them each Safety Glasses, two hammers, and a box of recycling. They flattened every tin can to less than 2 millimeters. It was a bonding moment. Martha was disgusted.
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