There are times when people should learn to keep their mouths shut. Mind their own business. Shhhh.
Let me explain.
When I'm out with the three boys (usually the grocery store, because where else do I have to go?), I get a lot of random comments.
"Three boys? You sure have your work cut out for you!"
"Better start saving for your grocery bills now!"
"Don't worry, you'll get your girl!"
Random sympathetic looks
I know that the four of us must be a sight. The older boys might be fluttering around the produce aisle, asking if we need more carrots ("for the reindeer," of course). Wondering when we are going to walk past the free cookies in the baked goods section. Driving cars/trucks/motorcycles/whathaveyou on a pretend air-track in the sky. Me, pushing the cart with a baby strapped to me wondering where the hell I put my list, or more often than not, cursing myself for not making one.
Sometimes the comments hurt my feelings. It's as if being the mother to three boys is just turrrrible. Mind you, my kids aren't running amok or otherwise misbehaving. They are really good running errands with me, and they usually like tagging along. Miles recently told me he would "always hold my hand," and that was music to this Mama's ears.
Last week at t-ball, a miracle occurred.
My friend introduced me to her mother-in-law, who said to me "three boys? What a lucky girl you are! Boys are such a blessing!" I wanted to straight up hug her right then and there. That was the first time a stranger said a positive thing about having boys. I told her as much, and I hope she really knew how deeply thankful I was for her kind comment. Because three boys, my boys, are a joy. A blessing. A gift from God.
Chaotic? Yes. Little balls of energy? Absolutely. But it's my life, and I wouldn't trade them for anything.
