My sons have totally changed my view of the world

I have three sons aged 6, 11 and 13 and raising them has proven to be an experience and a half. I have caught them doing the weirdest of things or attempting some death defying stunts that left me looking at their rather unfazed father in amazement.

“Are they normal?” I would ask him when the boys were younger.

And often, he would just nod, smile and continue reading his newspaper, like everything is okay while I, their baffled mother, would watch my children attempt to ‘kill’ each other.

Just when I would heave a sigh of relief that they have outgrown their ‘I want to see who can attempt the craziest stunt’ phase, comes the ‘let’s ruin mummy’s stuff’ phase.

When our two older boys were younger, their absolute favourite sport was converting stools into a wheel barrow. The poor stool would be turned upside down, the younger one would get in and his older brother would push him around the house.

Talk about a stool looking like it has just been sand-papered! And you would think they would choose the one stool to be doing this but nooooo...why would they when they have three more stools to destroy?

Then there are the accidents! If they are not falling off bicycles, being ridden at break neck speeds, then they are scaling some wall or climbing over a fence.

Never mind that there is a functional gate that one would open and walk through.

I guess in a boy’s world, it is easier to scale over a wall than open a gate.

And pray tell, why is it that they are so rough? I mean, one will be walking by and his brother will stick his leg out to trip him and his fall will be met by loudguffaws that soon degenerate into a fist fight. Or they will engage in a game of rough and tumble, all three, rolling on the carpet, choking each other, pushing and shoving.

A mini-wrestling match is going on right in the middle of my sitting room and the noise levels would be highest.

Since I have never been a boy and now raising boys, I just do not get it!

I do not see the humour in some antics they get into neither do I understand why everything they do has to be done in a hurry. What is wrong with just good old walking? Do we have to run all the time, even in the house, and when you are carrying a plate of food?

Over the years, being the only girl in a household of men, I have had to develop a thick skin. I have learnt to just go with the flow, enjoy their exuberant nature but be alert and ready to rein them in when they overstep the boundaries.

Above all, I have learnt to treasure the little glimpses of men I see in them every so often. Like when they help me around the house — carrying the shopping bags in so that ‘mummy does not get tired’ or when they pluck flowers, weeds, even grass and stick them in my hair so that ‘mummy looks pretty’ or when I have my hair done and they compliment me to no end.

I have also learnt that just because they are boys does not mean they do not need my affection.

Although, it often has to be given at their terms and I am under strict instructions not to hug the teenager in front of his friends, I have learnt to interpret their actions and behaviour that signal they are reaching out to me.

These boys! They have shocked me! Annoyed me! Worried me! But, they have changed me and filled my life with such joy.

I would not change a thing.

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