The Truth About Boys


My boys eat fish sticks or chicken nuggets at least four nights a week. They pick their noses and were born with the innate sense that farts are hilarious. The house is always cluttered, there are always crumbs in the seats of the car and sticky fingerprints on the windows. Sometimes they like to read books; most of the time books make good frisbees or weapons. Every toy in the house is missing at least one peice, making your brother cry is good entertainment and timeout is usually worth whatever you did to get there. Welcome to the Chretien house. Mothers have this constant voice in their head telling them that they could do better, their house could be cleaner, their waist smaller, and their kids more polite. I fall into this trap almost daily, and I am slowly learning that my success not measured by these standards. I may not be the perfect mom, but I know that my boys are happy. They know that they are loved, and they love each other. All day long they will fight over the same toy, the same book, the same spot on the couch. But, when evening comes, and they have sleepy eyes, jammied feet, and sweet smelling hair damp from bathtime, I know that we must be doing something right. This blog is dedicated to two sweet boys learning, playing, growing, and finding their place in the world, and to their mommy learning how to guide them.



Sunday, June 5, 2011

The truth about boys

My boys eat fish sticks or chicken nuggets at least four nights a week. They pick their noses and were born with the innate sense that farts are hilarious. The house is always cluttered, there are always crumbs in the seats of the car and sticky fingerprints on the windows. Sometimes they like to read books; most of the time books make good frisbees or weapons. Every toy in the house is missing at least one piece, making your brother cry is good entertainment and timeout is usually worth whatever you did to get there. Welcome to the Chretien house. Mothers have this constant voice in their head telling them that they could do better, their house could be cleaner, their waist smaller, and their kids more polite. I fall into this trap almost daily, and I am slowly learning that my success not measured by these standards. I may not be the perfect mom, but I know that my boys are happy. They know that they are loved, and they love each other. All day long they will fight over the same toy, the same book, the same spot on the couch. But, when evening comes, and they have sleepy eyes, jammied feet, and sweet smelling hair damp from bathtime, I know that we must be doing something right. This blog is dedicated to two sweet boys learning, playing, growing, and finding their place in the world, and to their mommy learning how to guide them.

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