Mothering Mayhem: Life with the Wild Boys

Hola Wild Boy friends and followers, and a VERY Merry Christmas Eve Eve to all of you from La Casa de Testosterone. Most of you realize that here in La Casa we fully embrace the magic of the holiday season. Even the Wild Boys usually make a concerted effort to (kind of) behave in attempt to appease the parentals and Santa himself. Santa, however, seems to see right through their sweet little smiles. He's a tough one, this guy. Or, someone may have farted on him immediately before this picture. Really hard to tell, but knowing my kids and the amount of giggling happening coinciding with his scowl, I know what is most likely...   But I digress. Super huge apologies to anyone that may have noticed the enormous gap between blogs. I can explain (seriously, that has become my life mantra as of late). See, we're busy. No, like really busy. And then Gavin made the school basketball team, and somehow sixth graders get the short end of the stick on that, so they have the latest pr...

Hola Wild Boy friends and family, and welcome back to another fantastic update from la Casa de Testosterone. It's been a while, I know. I can explain. I was outside playing. Which means realistically I've been tending to injuries on a daily basis, because I have wild boys. Now, some of you might not know my wild boys that well. You might think I'm exaggerating a little bit. Because my kids are really and truly incredibly athletic, and you would think that their hand eye coordination combined with athleticism would save them most of the time. And most of the time it probably does. The problem is, they both also crave adrenaline. All. The. Time. So EVERY day they do at least one thing that makes me actually feel my heart stop briefly in my chest. I'm pretty sure I'll die before they graduate from high school, because I cannot imagine this will get any better. Just to recap for the non believers, I've decided to dedicate this blog to a small list of some of the w...

Hola, Wild Boy friends, family, and loyal followers, and welcome back to another thrilling glimpse into La Casa de Testosterone.  We've had a super busy few weeks (think Tasmanian devil whirlwind kind of busy), and I'm left with so many things we COULD talk about. The boys once again testing the strength of my heart on the lake last weekend...     Or the boys starting tennis, or any number of school adventures like the last minute reminder that we needed pledges for a read-a-thon by the next day, or someone is convinced they have a dairy allergy, all while mom has multiple late night trainings and the cop has to juggle his schedule to accommodate two wild boys with batting practice twice a week. You get the idea, its been kind of crazy. But in the midst of all of it fell one thing that really must be documented: Gavin's first dance.   You see, the dance is noteworthy not in as much as Gavin went. It's noteworthy in the fact that I was forced to cha...

Hola, Wild Boy friends, family and followers, and a very happy Labor Day weekend from la Casa. I hope this fantastic weekend brings everyone an extra day off or fantastic holiday pay. Here in la casa, it is a tumultuous time indeed. You see, Gavin in eleven. I could stop typing right there, realistically, and you would probably all understand to some extent and nod sympathetically. But confession is cathartic, and you know y'all just come back to eat popcorn and read in open mouth shock what a day in the life is like. Who am I to disappoint? Let me set the stage here. You all know Gavin started middle school this year. I'm not allowed to say Junior High, because the cop starts breathing all ragged and gets sweaty. So, we'll just humor him and say middle school because somehow that seems better to him. Whatever. At the beginning of the school year we decided that our after school routine would be all shook up, and the kids would go home some of our friends after school i...

Hola, Wild Boy friends and family, and welcome back to a brief update from La Casa de Testosterone. Since last we parted, the boys have driven the cop and I crazy for the remainder of their summer vacation and last week (insert sounds of choir of angels here) school started again. I know, I know, everyone is shocked at the possibility that I could be relieved by the return of homework, packing lunches, drop off lines and the dreaded Tuesday envelopes. But I’ll level with you all – if school didn’t start and physically separate the Wild Boys I’m not sure they would have lived. You see, the bickering has reached maximum parental capacity. It’s almost as if they inhale ONLY to bicker on each and every exhale. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard them do it in their sleep. There is no end. So you can imagine my bliss when they are separated for eight hours a day. Although I’m not actually there to enjoy it, which sucks. But at least teachers see my pleasant children, not my hell spawn. So...

Hola, Wild Boy friends and family. A SUPER happy Mama coming to you this afternoon from La Casa de Testosterone, because all my guys are FINALLY home. Summer means a lot of things here in la Casa, and one of the biggest is Summer Camp. Gabe is a Cub Scout, Gavin is a Boy Scout, and both of them have summer camps to earn all kinds of patches and merit badges and have all kinds of boy fun. Gabe goes with the Cop for four days, Gavin goes alone for ten days. This is the first year they were at separate camps, and of course camps overlapped so for four days it was me and the animals. That went as well as could be expected (not well at all), and then the Cop and Gabe came home and I had some degree of peace. But not my Gavin. He was gone for ten days. Ten days. This was our first time apart with him not with a family member for more than a night. And he was gone for TEN DAYS. While I know that most parents would delight in this kind of break, I was FRANTIC. Lets try to remember how ...

Hola, Wild Boy friends and family, and a very happy Independence Day from la Casa de Testosterone. We are spending today recovering, since our happy little town does it's celebration on the 3rd of July to allow the more adventurous souls out there that want to be crammed elbow to elbow with strangers and trapped in cars for traffic snarled hours to see larger shows in bigger cities that opportunity. Me? Not so much. I like our small town show. I like being in the park, and seeing everyone, and by the end of the evening expanding our blankets to allow for whatever tribe of children settle down with us. This year was only slightly different. The Wild Boys are old enough now that girls rarely settle down with us anymore (although they do manage to casually walk by giggling with frightening regularity). Also, my attention is divided between two different dangers - Gabe and his friends courting finger loss and major burns, and Gavin and his friends being pulled in by the lure of t...