Oh Boys

brotherly love

Henry came to me a little agitated the other day because one of his older brothers was bothering him.

“He was sweatboxing me, and I don’t like it.”

I got the situation sorted out (“QUIT SWEATBOXING YOUR BROTHER.” “Yes, ma’am.”) and my lingering thought I was, “do other six-year-old boys think sweatboxing is a verb?”

Life is funny these days because all five boys are at school together every day, all day. Last year Henry came home half-day (per the kindergarten program at our school), so this year is a full day of me and Isa ruling the roost while the boys are all out hunting and gathering.

And then everyone returns home in the afternoon and evening and the tone of the house just completely changes. Right now, Isa is taking a leisurely soak in the tub and has asked if we can change out her toenail polish from purple to another shade of purple. Then we’ll do a little cleaning and prepare for Thanksgiving cooking.

But mostly, to be completely honest, I spend my days just gearing up for when everyone is at home. I get as many things done because the boys (and homework and basketball and music and just life) take up all my energies and focus when they are here. Which is, wonderfully, as it should be.

Comments

  1. That’s a lovely post. And your husband looks very distinguished with his beard. My wife would kill me if I got one.