In which I weary of being a mother to only boys and decide to protest the home’s testosterone levels by painting my nails red and writing an awful limerickÂ
Mothering boys requires stamina.
Days are all too crammina
with retelling episodes of Doctor Who,
and mapping Mindcraft strategies, too.
By nightfall, I’m completely slammina.
Author’s note: It’s the school’s spring break, and I’m alone with my three boys. This is a diary of our adventures.
Ha! My three boys (four, counting their dad) went away for most of break, and it only took about ten minutes after they got back for me to grow weary of their boyness.
Reminds me of my dad hopping on a plane with my two little brothers and visiting us here in SF. Lots of fun, but breaks were needed.
Love.
Our guys are still trying to figure out Dr. Who’s name. Are yours?