As one of three girls, it was rather quiet in my house growing up. Lots of tea parties, and playing school, where my older sister always insisted she was the teacher.

I’m now the mother of two boys, and I don’t know quiet any longer. It’s a whole new type of parenting. The energy level of boys has taken some getting used to, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

I wrote this about living with Griffin and Hayden.

There are boys in my house

One big one, two small

Toys scattered in bedrooms and all down the hall

They swing their make-believe swords through the air

With dirt on their faces and tousled blonde hair

Footballs, big trucks, and gooey green slime

So full of energy, no concept of time

Then it’s off to get bad guys and slide down the stairs

They make forts with a blanket thrown over two chairs

They live for video games and books about sports

They’re obsessed with team jerseys and elastic-type shorts.

They will frown over showers, and avoid tucks in bed,

Remote-control airplanes will fly by my head,

They like to get dirty, and they’re always too loud

Yet nothing could make me more happy or proud.

There are boys in my house

Listen close and you’ll hear

“I love you, Momma” when one hugs me dear.

Then it’s back to their capes, and the heroes they play

And I count my blessings because I can say…

There are boys in my house.

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