You Know You’re A Boy Mom

2/18/20

Fall/Spring 1998/99

I sat and looked around the house chuckling as my eyes spanned the living area. The coffee table was void of the cute centerpiece basket with the decorations inside, placed off to the side next to the wall. In its place was a bright blue net of a table top ping-pong set with paddles resting on either side, missing the ping pong ball which had been blasted across the room scoring the game ending point. This scene puts a sign on my back with big letters “Boy Mom,” or maybe it’s just my label.

This label comes with a whole slew of other scenes in life that has to do with boys:

Laundry time comes with a handful of rocks and sticks fished out of pockets.

Hugs and kisses one minute and then smacks with foam swords the next.

Your foot is permanently marked with little round LEGO circles.

The toilet area, need I say more?

You paint your nails during the first inning of the baseball game so they can dry without getting smudge for the next eight innings.

Dad asks on the way out the door if they have any other jeans.

The epic wrestling match is always right before bed.

Pretty things? What is that?

Oh, and the smell is another one with the label, EPIC!

I really enjoy being a boy mom. I only had two brothers growing up, and one of them was a year younger than me, so we were very close when we were little. When I chopped off my hair at the age of three with the giant scissors, my mom looked like she had twin boys. As mentioned in one of my earlier blog articles, we spent our childhood outside, and I was a bona fide tomboy. Therefore, I was destined to be a boy mom.

When the first year teaching came along, the academic part of teaching was very natural, and it was easy to explain each concept to those bright-eyed fourth graders. I loved using unconventional things to explain things like fractions. By using a student standing on a chair for the numerator holding a yardstick next to another student standing on the floor as the denominator, math was brought to life. There were relays to study history terms and basketball tosses to help explain nouns. My favorite times were teaching new choruses created from favorite Bible verses. I loved to sing with the class, and singing brought happiness to the classroom and our daily learning. I loved the academic side of teaching but truly enjoyed getting to know the students on the playground, field trips, and pickup time. It was nice to not think about grades and papers, and go shoot a few basketballs on the court or talk about their soccer game win or piano recital from the weekend.

Unfortunately, following all outside recess came the almost unbearable and putrid body odor smell. In Oklahoma. and especially in August and September, their outside play opened the sweat glands and those in turn permeated the room with sweet odor. The rest of the day never recovered, so the best we could do was open the door and turn down the AC. This never changed year to year. The play and smells were intertwined, and a teacher made due. I had been prepared for these smells because of my brothers, and then when I had boys, those smells showed up again. This is never going to change!

I have learned what masks the smells and find the spray of pretty smell or diffuse the sweet smell all day. Then I started thinking about how a smell permeates the room whether it is an outdoor smell or a sweet smell. The molecules do not take very long to move throughout the room and affect each individual there, because the air is in constant circulation. Especially in the car after a football game or basketball practice! Phew, wee! But, I really am grateful for the smells, because they are from people that I love and appreciate. A smell can bring up memories that we enjoy or they bring back other memories that we want to forget.

In my cancer journey, the hospital and doctor smells are unforgettable and are brought to my memory every single time I go through those doors. Who knew smells would be a side effect of cancer?!? But those smells can also be a reminder of where I have been and where I am today. They remind me of the super, amazing hard times of chemotherapy, spinal taps, doctor’s appointments of anxiety about cancer reoccurrence. Literally, a smell brings a flash of memory about wearing those awesome hospital gowns or walking around in those non-slip socks. Red Jello brings the memory of liquid diets and ice chips. One smell, a multitude of thoughts.

If one smell can bring a multitude of thoughts, words and actions supersede the smell. I spent my first year of teaching in constant anxiety because the words on the pages of rejection letters from insurance companies. When we speak to others or our actions toward others do not bring comfort, that person internalizes those things, and it affects them and who they are. God’s Word encourages us to be careful of this and to live by the Spirit that He has given to us to receive. Galatians 5:22, 23 wraps it all up neatly: “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, Meekness, temperance; against such there is no law.” If we make the conscious “choice” (our actions and words are OUR choice) to be a help to others and not a hurt, we will put off a “smell” that others around us enjoy. We will give them the “smell” of love, joy, peace, etc… because we choose to. It is our choice and no one else’s. Can we do this? Are we willing to choose between the good and the bad?