My Life with Boys...

I grew up with sisters, except my little brother who was 13 years younger. so I was gone before he really got involved.  Anyone with sisters knows about cat fights - mean words, the silent treatment, exclusion, maybe someone got their hair pulled or earned a scratch.

I am now a mother of mainly boys - 3 lovely, very boyish boys. I have had to learn that boys fight very different from girls.  Sure, exclusion and cruel words come into it, but boy fights escalate to violence at a much quicker rate. Girls use words and/or silence, boys duke it out.(Side note here: girl fights last forever. Once boys swing it's usually over.)

Last night Clay and Mac got into it over something trivial - lego, I think. Before I knew it, they had each grabbed a cutting board (plastic and flimsy, not hard) off the counter and made their strike.  I pulled them apart and gave them the look. Fast forward one minute: one kicks the other, the other kicks back, one throws a punch at the arm...Mom rushes in and tears them apart, taking one out of the kitchen to cool off.

Meanwhile...

The other was standing on a small step stool through all of this and lost his balance grabbing at whatever was on the counter in an effort to stop his momentum toward the ground.

That item was my deep fryer.

Oil.

Everywhere.

This is the point where mom gives herself a time out while the boys run for cover.

Oh, and dad came in from shovelling the snow in -40 weather.  Not happy.

An hour of clean up and two boys in their beds later we were able to discuss the consequences.

Today there was no school.  First, these lovely boys got to sit with mom and read scriptures about not having contention in the home, loving others like the Savior does and the Golden Rule.  Then they were able to discuss with each other what they each could have done differently last night, as well as come up with a plan for future discipline relating to cruelty and violence in our home. Then they got the talk about what happens to people who can't control their tempers when they grow up.

(Side note 2: making boys talk to each other is almost worse for them than just punishing them. It was a very torturous half hour.)

After the discussion, they were assigned jobs to complete together. Two reasons: first, to make up for the hour I spent cleaning the kitchen floor and counters last night; second, to learn to get along.  Because therein was the catch.  They were not done working til they could work without fighting or biting remarks.

I've never had a cleaner pantry, more folded laundry or beautifully shovelled walks/driveway than I do today.

I grew up a child with sisters.

I am now a mom of boys.

Maybe one day I'll figure this out...