Monday Mom Fails: Boys and Bathrooms

When my four sons were little, I used to think they all had hearing problems because they were so freaking loud. But they didn’t. They were just LOUD.

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Almost everything was shouted and I found myself saying, “Use your inside voice.” on an hourly basis. Sometimes I would say it not using my own inside voice, which the boys loved to point out.

Now that they’re all in high school and college, they’ve learned to modulate their volume, most of the time. However, they have a new form of deafness. Well, it’s actually more like blindness.

My boys are bathroom blind.

Every single time I go into their disgusting lavatory, I find myself muttering the following…

Do they not see it?

How on earth can they be in here and not throw up?

Seriously? What is wrong with them?

Do they need their eyes checked?

Nobody did it, of course. The elves came in and grossed up the whole place while they were sleeping.

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When I ask them to clean it….

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But too bad because this mom has gone on permanent boy bathroom strike.

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I will no longer clean it. It’s their mess and their bathroom.

We were at a stalemate for a quite a while and I finally caved and offered $20 to whoever cleaned it…properly.

Enter my son, Jack.

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I consider it a compromise. The bathroom gets cleaned and he earns money.

I’m not sure if this is a mom-fail or a mom-win. I’m sure there will be differing opinions but you know what they say…

Opinions are like assholes. Everyone as them and most of them stink.

Kind of like bathrooms and boys.

 

Giving Thanks for All of It–Even the Damn Sneakers.

I have much to be thankful for and I do my best to never forget it. However, as we go through life’s daily grind, it can be easy to let our gratitude slip between the cracks. Like most people, I can get frustrated but at the end of the day, I’m blessed where it counts. First and foremost, I’m grateful for my family. My husband and four sons are the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all sunshine and roses at our house.

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A layer of dog hair covers most surfaces and no matter how often I vaccum…there’s more. As you can see by Tiberius’ face, he’s not sorry. Cooper, our cocker spaniel, he’s not sorry either. Two dogs equals tumbleweeds of hair but the snuggles they give us makes it all worthwhile.

Not one of my sons or my husband can seem to use a laundry basket for their dirty clothes. Nope. The dirty clothes land on the floor in a trail leading to the laundry basket but not in it.  Every now and then a lone sock will be hanging over the edge but that’s as close as they get.  For some unknown reason, all of the men in my house kick their shoes off into the foyer.  And leave them there. On any given day, you will find a minefield of random shoes in my front hall. Seriously. One day you might see this headline…”Author breaks her neck walking through her front door.”  If you do, it was me and I was done in by the damn shoes. If I had a dollar for every time I tripped over a sneaker…I’d be freakin’ loaded.

Laundry, dirty dishes, dog hair, and shoes aside, I am lucky. When I get really frustrated and want to throw a sneaker through the window, I ask myself how I would feel if they weren’t here to drive me crazy. That simple question puts everything into perspective.

Life is precious and our time here is fleeting. I am grateful for my dog hair covered house full of loud, funny, messy, smart, crazy and loving men.

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Happy Thanksgiving, my friends.