Four years ago, God blessed me with a son, Will, and though it took a while for me to realize it, just this week I discovered something very important: I was wrong. Wrong. WRONG.

Boys are, in fact, the OPPOSITE of easy.  Boys are absolute trouble.

I should’ve realized it when we moved into this house.  The previous owners had a cat and had installed a “cat door” going in and out of the laundry room.  By the end of day two in our new home, we had to remove the door leaving a gaping hole in the paneling.  Why?  Will’s head kept getting stuck.

I have had to teach my son things that I never had to teach my daughter.  Important life lessons that are not found in any parenting book I’ve read.  Lessons like:

• “You are not allowed to hide from your sister in the dryer!”
• “The foot rest on the recliner is NOT a catapult!”
• “Let go!  You cannot ride up on the garage door handle!”
• “Do not stand up on the bathtub to pee in the potty!”

When I was a kid, I heard horror stories about the terror that my brother was when he was a child.  He set the woods behind our house on fire – twice.  He kept a black widow’s egg sack in a jar with holes poked in the top in his bedroom.  When the babies hatched… they were smaller than the holes.  He had pet eels who were magicians at getting out of their tanks.  I would come home from school to find them dried up on the carpet.  I know my mother pretty well and I’m surprised he made it out of childhood alive.  Sadly, I believe this is just foreshadowing of what is to come in my life.  *insert scary JAWS theme music here*

Lately, Will has become overly obsessed with his penis, clutching it like a security blanket at home, at the grocery store, at church…

Like all boys, Will is particularly fond of his manhood.  I remember well the day he first discovered it.  He marched down the hallway into the living room wearing nothing but a pair of green frog rain boots and his Davy Crocket coon-skin hat.  He thrust his pelvis forward, pointing downward and announced, “Hey Mom!  Check out my pee-pee!”  It was a proud moment.

Since that day, he has developed some type of pee-pee paranoia.  As a result, I am developing a case of pee-pee humiliation.

Last week, my daughter was “helping” me prepare supper and Will was marching in the kitchen.  As usual, his hand was firmly clasped over his crotch.

“Will, do you need to go potty?” I asked looking up from the casserole before me.

He froze with his free hand out in front of him, glancing suspiciously around the room like some sort of spy.  “No,” he answered is raspy whisper.

“Then stop holding your pee-pee,” I said.

“I have to protect it,” he said still in spy-stance.  “There’s a bee in the house.”

Bread
Milk
Cheese
Sausage
Tomato Sauce
Peanut Butter
Vodka… lots of Vodka
Ground Beef
Chicken
Yogurt

Now let me tell you about my day. It’s Saturday and it’s very cold and rainy. The weather man is calling for sleet tonight. Oh joy…. That means I have to let the dogs indoors. Great.

Before I begin, let me explain. I love my children. They are what makes my sun rise and set each day and I cannot imagine life without them. HOWEVER, today I almost slapped a “Free To A Good Home” sign on them and sent them to the curb.

It all began with, “Mom, I peed all over da bafroom.” That is never a good statement to wake up to early on a Saturday morning. These are moments that make me REALLY miss my husband. Due to obvious anatomical differences, I cannot properly teach my son how to correctly stand, point and go. Therefore I was up waaay before I wanted to be cleaning the kids’ bathroom floor, wall and bathtub. I’m still not sure how much of the mess was an accident rather than artistic expression.

I washed my hands and trudged back to bed.

I can see my kids playing in the living room from the comfort of my amazingly cozy bed and they were behaving, coloring on construction paper and watching cartoons. Then I hear my daughter. “Will, you’re in trouble… Mom!”

We have a brand new micro suede couch that I love. Or at least I loved it yesterday. Today it is covered in red Crayola marker. Will spent the next long while in timeout in his bed and I frantically Googled how to remove marker from suede. Forty five minutes later, I gave up on the bed and took a shower.

While in the shower, my five year old came in three different times asking me to spell my name, Will and Our Home. She was making a sign so everyone would know who lived in our house. When I got out of the shower a bright orange construction paper sign was GLUED to our living room wall. Isn’t that just adorable?

The construction paper covered walls of my house began caving in and after I had made the aforementioned list, we headed off to Target with my sister. She laughed at my list and said, “I don’t think they sell vodka at Target.” Next, we made a stop at Kohl’s to coat shop. As I gave my sister my opinion on a coat that I will later go back and buy, my son disappeared. I had purposefully dressed him in a Tennessee orange jacket so he would be easy to keep track of. No orange jacket anywhere. Five full minutes of searching under every coat rack in the area ticked by with no sign of my kid. Frantic, I headed to the Service desk to put everyone on alert for a three foot pirate (he’s still wearing the hat) unsupervised in the enormous store. My sister continued the search and found him at the Hot Wheels aisle in the toy section in the back of the store.

After a fierce spanking and then hugging and tears, we headed home. My nerves were on edge and I put my son down for a nap and seriously eyed my bottle of Xanax by the sink.

Since naptime the kids have been watching some Scooby Pirate movie and five minutes ago Will decided to sword fight with the pirates on our new 42 inch LCD flat panel. L

I’m getting my tubes tied. Who wants to take me out for vodka to celebrate because of course I forgot to stop at the liquor store!?!

About six weeks ago I was running around frantic because it was 8:30 and I am supposed to be at work by 8:30. Not only do I live twenty minutes away from my office, but Canaan was still half asleep in her jammies on my bed, I was dripping wet from the shower, and my son would not put down Thomas ChooChoo to come get his clothes on. You can only imagine the level of frenzy in my house that morning. The scene was something like this:”Will, come here!” I bellowed to where Will and Thomas were doing laps around the dining room table.A tiny finger stretched through the bedroom doorway. “One second Mama.” “No, one second. Come here now!” “One second!” he repeated.

Taking action into my own hands, I marched to the dining room, swung my son into my arms with magnificent speed sending Thomas ChooChoo spiraling into orbit through the living room. I plopped him down on my bed, ripped his shirt up and over his head and slung it on the floor. His eyes were wide and he lifted both hands in the air, palms out, as if to silence me. He paused for dramatic effect and then said calmly, “Mama… welax.”

The life of a single mom is anything but relaxing. Most days are spent before I ever even fully realize that they have begun. I’ve come to fully understand those women who just pack up and skip the country without looking back because they just can’t deal with life here anymore. I begrudgingly wake up, go to work, come home to play mommy, work some more and then go to bed just to get up and do it all over again. I realized that this is NO WAY TO LIVE.

Am I going to go and buy that plane ticket for Bora Bora? Not this week. Instead I’ve decided to take my son’s advice and WELAX. I have committed myself to three specific things:

1. I will in all cases, no matter what madness or drama comes my way, be thankful. Thankfulness doesn’t come easy for me most days, it’s a choice, not a feeling. I am thankful for God’s faithfulness, my children, my family, my friends, my job, my home, and my bathtub…. Which brings me to thing number two.

2. I will indulge myself in some small way every day. That usually means I will take a bubble bath or two. (I have a rockin’ great bathtub and a pretty hefty water bill.) Other forms of indulgence may also include a bucket of guilt-free dark chocolate M&M’s, a glass of wine, or a new $8 dress that deserves a nice dinner out.

3. Thing number three in my quest to welaxation is to follow my heart and listen to myself. I will choose to listen to the real me rather than the imposter me that tells me that I am a failure, that I am incapable of making good decisions, that I am a bad mother, that I will always be the bad seed. This is simply not true and I will no longer listen to that voice.

Tomorrow is Monday. I hate Mondays, but maybe… just maybe I’ll only hit the snooze button once. New day… here I come!