boy oh boy!

As of February 1, I am officially the mother of four boys. Gulp. That even looks tough on paper.

Number four arrived fashionably on time (on his due date), but I really would have appreciated an early appearance.

The two older boys were thrilled to have a brother, but only because the boys would then outnumber the girls on the Larson side. They seem to think only in terms of wrestling and beating up the girls and can’t quite comprehend that by the time this one is old enough to fight, his girl cousins will be graduating from high school.

The former baby of the family has not been so excited about the new addition. He hasn’t pulled any two-year-old stuff like poking baby’s eyes or trying to smother him (although I’ve kept a close eye on him, just in case). Instead, he has become a master of the word “No!” and has been almost unbearably stubborn. Any time he gets disciplined for calling me “stupid” or “dumb,” he then insists that it’s all my fault. Logic of a two-year-old is interesting.

Thankfully, this baby has been our calmest by far. He eats, sleeps, poops and burps and spends the rest of the time wide awake, observing the chaos that constantly surrounds him.

I wonder if he’ll stay calm forever, or if he’s simply taking it all in, waiting for his chance to prove “anything you can do, I can do better,” which seems to be the motto around our place.

I’ve already pulled out “Bringing up Boys” - Dr. Dobson’s Bible on male children to re-read. Pretty sure that it will have to be kept out for permanent reference as I muddle through this raising boys business. My only complaint is that there are no chapters in the book about how to cope with never-ending laundry piles, potting training boys who dribble on the floor, and how to keep boys from biting each other.

Maybe I need to write my own book - a mother of boys survival guide. Between all the noise, the competition, the outrageous amounts of food they eat and the toys they accumulate, there has got to be a silver lining somewhere. If not, perhaps I can make some money selling my new-found and hard-learned expertise.

I probably wouldn’t know what to do with a girl baby anyway, so perhaps in a way God’s looking out for me. One more male in this already testosterone-overloaded house isn’t going to make much of a difference.

Hopefully, those future daughter-in-laws will thank me some day that I forced my boys to eat (of all things!) tomatoes, onions, sweet potatoes and sauerkraut. I know I’m grateful my hubby isn’t picky about what he eats.

I’m also hoping they’ll appreciate boys who aren’t shy about singing to strangers, too embarrassed to wear patched jeans, love vegetables, adore their grandparents, are polite enough to say thank you, but not uptight enough to keep from burping out loud and laughing about it. They (so far) seem to enjoy the few chores we make them do. (We even discovered that #2 actually likes to sweep the floor and wash dishes!! Believe me, we’re taking full advantage of that.) They aren’t easily bored and can watch “The Incredibles” five times in a row without going nuts. The only one going nuts is me, when they argue about who has what super-powers as they chase each other around the house.

For some reason that I haven’t figured out yet, we’ve been chosen to have four boys. So far it seems to be working. I’m still somewhat sane. The washing machine still works. The vacuum cleaner didn’t self-destruct after sucking up a Lincoln Log last week. And, I’ve got plenty of hand-me-downs for boy #4.

Now if I could just get some sleep...