I’m Overwhelmed by Boy Dirt!

If you are a mother of an eight-year-old boy, or have ever been the mother of an eight-year-old boy, I’m sure you can relate to what I am about to say.

I do laundry and clean the house EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE!!!

I’ve realized how much more I could accomplish in a day if I didn’t have to do so much laundry and clean the same parts of my house every single day. It is amazing to me how many stains and messes one small (well, medium) child can create! Some of you were here on Saturday to witness this interaction:

Melanie: “Ryan, there are two rules for today. First, greet every guest. Second, do not spill fruit punch on that new white Hawaiian shirt.” (I know – what was I thinking?)

Ryan: “Ok, Mom.”

He made it all the way through the party obeying rule number one (I think. Although after Melissa’s comment on yesterday’s post, I’m not so sure). He made it about halfway through the party with rule number two. I had just done all of the laundry that morning, but did another load after the open house to remove the fruit punch stain from the new shirt.

Ryan has two pair of shorts which are appropriate to wear to school, one tan, one navy blue. The tan pair came home from school with horrible grass stains. That’s ok, we still had the blue pair. Nope, the blue pair had some sort of unknown goop stuck to the rear. So Ryan was forced to wear (gasp!) size 7 shorts to school because he refused to wear long pants. Yes, I’ve done more laundry.

As all of this was happening the past few days, I came across this poem on a friend’s blog. I have to admit, although I have experienced most of the not-so-pleasant things mentioned, I definitely experience the tender moments, too. Ryan did bring a bunch of dandelions to the door on Sunday. Oh, wait…then he proceeded to do that timeless and morbid “head popped off” ditty with each one of them. I guess maybe the moment wasn’t that tender after all.

Raising A Boy

I scrub the wall of fingerprints,

Pick up the mounds of clothes.

I sweep the dirt that shoes track in-

Wish I could use a hose!

-

Meals are served from dawn to dark,

Dirty dishes crowd the sink.

Just when they’re washed and put away-

He decides he wants a drink!

-

The washer pulls the dirty grime

From pants worn thin and patched.

They look so very neat and clean-

Yuck, look what the pockets hatched!

-

Broken bones and bloody knees,

I should have been a nurse.

I take it all in shaky stride-

Just grateful it’s not worse!

-

Screams and shouts and arguments

Test the keeping of my cool.

He left the neighbor’s faucet on-

See their new front yard pool!

-

A soothing bath is ecstasy,

A reward at the end of my rope.

Raising a boy isn’t really bad-

But first I must wash the soap!

-

A rose can say I Love You,

Orchids can enthrall;

But a weed bouquet in a chubby fist,

Oh my, that says it all!

~Roberta I. Teague