Apr 17, 2006

Mother of Sons...

A few years ago for Christmas, my dad gave me this little wall-hanging that says, "Mothers of little boys work from son up to son down." That is the gospel truth! From time to time, people ask me if I want a daughter. My answer is usually (and truthfully), "Are you kidding? I WAS a teenage girl - I don't want one of those!" LOL! I am already practicing my "TURN THAT MUSIC DOWN!" yell. I DO get tired of monster trucks and baseball games, though. I love it when I get the opportunity to scrap in girly colors instead of blues and browns all the time.

A few weeks ago, my dh was sitting in an airport next to a man with an adorable puppy. The man had flown in to pick up a new puppy for hunting. It was his second hunting dog. He got his other puppy about 6 months ago. This man told my dh that he wanted to get 2 puppies at once but the breeder told him not to. He said that if you get 2 puppies less than 6 months apart, they will teach each other naughty puppy habits and be very hard to train. When my dh was tellling me this, I looked at him and said, "That's our problem - our puppies (sons) are too close in age!" They are a whopping 17 months apart and the same size. When people ask me if they're twins, I usually say, "They might as well be!". They definitely teach each other naughty puppy habits. The results of their misbehavior usually resembles a small prision riot. I have finely-tuned my "hostage negotiating" skills over the last few years and feel it would be a viable career choice for me once they leave home...

A couple of years ago, when I was in CA, we went to the Richard M. Nixon Library in Yorba Linda. Mrs. Nixon had the "pleasure" of 5 sons in a tiny little house. Hanging on the wall of the home is a framed poem that is perfect for the mother of sons. I intend to scrap a page about my own boys with this poem on it. The author is unknown:

Yes, I know there are stains on my carpet,
the traces of small muddy boots;
and I see your fairy tapestry glowing
all spotless with blossoms and fruits!

And I know that my walls are disfigured,
with prints of small fingers and hands
And that your own household whiteness
all fresh in its purity stands.

And I know that my parlor is littered
with many old treasures and toys
while your own is in daintiest order,
unharmed by the presence of boys!

And I know that my room is invaded
quite boldly all hours of the day,
While you sit in your own unmolested,
And dream the soft quiet way.

Yes I know there are four little bedsides
where I must stand watchful each night.
While you may go out in your carriage,
And flash in your dresses so bright!

Now I think I'm a neat little woman,
I like my house orderly, too;
And I am fond of all dainty belongings,
Yet I would not change places with you!

No! Keep your fair home with it's order,
It's freedom from bother and noise!
And keep your own fanciful leisure,

1 comment:

Sandy M said...

Love this poem!

I think I'll print this out and frame it for my sister - she has six boys.