House Full Of Boys – Learning How to be a Boy Mom

All my life I have been surrounded by women. Growing up I was always around my mom, two sisters, a female nanny, mostly girl cousins, a million aunts- hell, even our dog, Cha Cha, was a girl. We LOVE all things fashion, hair, makeup, nails…really just all things girly.  I have literally been surrounded in estrogen my entire life. Fast-forward to my life now: three sons, a plethora of brother-in-laws and a husband who is so sports-driven that he might as well run ESPN. Nearly 12 years into my life as a boy mom and I still have no clue what the fuck I’m doing. I know you have questions, so let me explain.

Out of all of my sisters, I have always been the girliest. Bonnie (big sis) is a certified boss who takes risks and wears daring and bold clothes.  Zari (baby sis) is one of those carefree, hippy, would-walk-around-ass-naked-if-she-could type of people. I’ve always been the sensitive one who wears a cute dress, full makeup and five-inch heels to the grocery store. When I was 15 years old, Bonnie dubbed me the Prissy Bitch or “PB” for short. It’s a nickname I have never been able to shake.


Whenever I would sit and daydream about having kids, I always imagined having daughters because that’s all I knew. That quickly changed when I got pregnant at 18. I’ve always been a big time daddy’s girl, so when my dad didn’t talk to me for months after finding out I was pregnant, I knew my only saving grace would be if I had a boy.

My father always longed for a son, but ended up with three daughters, so a grandson would fill that void in his heart. I prayed and prayed that God would give me a boy so I could see my dad smile again, and you know what? He gave me a son. Then years later, he gave me two more. Good one, God. Good one.

As far as my dad was concerned, he was over the damn moon when CJ was born (click here to read more about CJ). CJ was and still is the apple of his eye and “the coolest kid he’s ever met” as my dad likes to say. Meanwhile, I was just sitting there looking at this diaper with a penis in it like “what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

I was completely lost and didn’t have a clue what to do. It didn’t help that both my sisters only birthed girls, so until my husband and bonus baby came along, CJ was surrounded by females.

My dad travels a lot so he couldn’t be around CJ as much as he would’ve liked. My ex-husband and I separated when CJ was 2 years old, so mostly everything I learned about boys, I taught myself. Because we had very few men in our family, no one could really offer much advice as to how you’re supposed to raise a little boy.

I did the obvious things any confused, unqualified boy mom would do. I bought everything super hero, only purchased blue clothing and I played the Cars movie on repeat.

Like I said, I didn’t know what I was doing.

When Dayo came in to my life, things changed drastically- in a good way. I no longer had to struggle choosing boy clothes, CJ was immediately put into sports, and the best thing was that he actually had another little boy to play with (my bonus baby, Elijah). This was going to be a breeze and I could just kick back and relax!  Life was going to be easy peezy now, right? Wrong.

Dayo’s family is made up of ALL boys. When he and I first started dating, most of his brothers and cousins were teenagers who had literally just hit puberty. They were (and still are) frequent visitors at our house, so I went from constantly being surrounded by women to constantly surrounded by stinky, smelly, loud, rambunctious boys.

And although I LOVE them all like they have been in my life from day one, those little motherfuckers get on my last nerve. They’re always play fighting, farting, walking in my home with cleats on and eating all the snacks. It’s kinda like live in a fucking frat house. A frat house from hell.

Regardless, they took CJ under their wing right away. They would take him to play basketball with them. They would go to his soccer games. They rough-housed with him and best of all, they showed him how to Dutch oven someone. For those of you who don’t know what a Dutch oven is, let me explain. A Dutch oven is when you fart next to someone and then quickly cover the person in a blanket so they are trapped in your fart. It is a savage and cruel prank that my boys have grown to love. I hate my life.

Even though I often want to beat them senseless with a pillow case full of bars of soap, I love all the guys in my life dearly. They’ve actually helped me grow more as a woman and a human being. I’ve grown thicker skin, I understand the difference between a home run and a lay-up, and I know how to quickly and efficiently karate chop someone in their throat. 

Being a boy mom is hard, but I am lucky to say that I have a tribe of men and women around me who make it easier. I will forever be grateful for that.

Here are a few things I learned about boys in my 11+ years in boy mommy hood.

Aside from an everlasting love and unbreakable bond, there are many, MANY perks to having a son:

  1. You never have to take out the trash again… in your entire life.
  2. You never have to carry the groceries inside.
  3. You never have to do any heavy lifting.
  4. They kill spiders for fun.
  5. You don’t have to worry about doing their hair in the morning.
  6. You only have to buy them two grooming products- lotion and soap.

Even though the perks are awesome, there are some downfalls to boys:

  1. They stink.
  2. They hate to bathe.
  3. They fart more than you would’ve ever thought humanly possible.
  4. They love dirt.
  5. Their room smells like ass.
  6. Don’t get me started on their bathrooms… (click here to read about the shittiest day of my life)






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