I have two boys. Duh. They don’t organize and put things away in properly. They don’t remember to take their shoes off in the house, even if they are covered with mud. They put rocks in their pockets and wads of leaves that end up in my washing machine. They hang from trees and yell, loud. They hate to brush their teeth for longer than 20 seconds. They wrestle every Saturday morning on my bed, even though they all know that every stinkin’ time someone will get hurt and end up bawling. When Lars spends the night at a friends house, Benjamin informed me it is dumb to ask him “so what did you guys talk about until the wee hours of the morning?” Boys don’t talk, at least about anything beyond flashlights and spying and bionicles and such. There is a reason they cannot maintain peace and calm: testosterone. This would also be the reason their bathroom always smells like pee and the lid is always up and the floor is usually soaked after any shower or bath. It is disgusting. Any stick is an automatic sword, any glass ofmilk and straw a bubble bomb. Any stupid riddle howled over many times like it was the first time. How the epiphany had to crash upon me yet again like I had forgotten is beyond me!Or perhaps not, after all I was praying for insight. And it was not all that complex. I have two boys. I must teach two boys. I am not a boy. I confess I have always reacted adversely to the whole Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus thing. I tend to focus on the Human Beings Live on Earth thing. I was a tomboy after all, I never was a girly girl… So, I’ll be refreshing my Bringing Up Boys text this week which I never liked that much in the first reading. In the meantime we did most of school today in a tree and on a blanket and threw balls on the roof for recess and skipped the dishwasher and sweeping until dinner. You cannot imagine how much we accomplished academically. Off to writing now while Lars puts together two clothes racks for me and fixes a cupboard. Work he actually likes to do. I always wanted boys, lots of boys. But oh, how out-numbered I am feeling…
There remains very much land left to possess
ANGELA BLYCKER 
Ah boys. I’m just now learning that boys are different. I had my two sweet girls first – girls who would sit nicely and quietly, love nothing more than to color and play with dolls and just in general be sweet. Now I’m learning how to raise a Mikey. He NEEDS to destroy things and throw things and stomp on things and tease his sisters mercilessly and is forever falling and hurting himself. Somedays I have had enough! But he’s not being bad – he’s just being a boy… Thanks for reminding me that boys are indeed different.