I am a mother of three boys. No daughters. Just three wonderful sons. So, I have always heard comments like:
Are you going to try for your girl?
Three boys… whoa… you must be tired.
Three boys. (Light-hearted laugh.) Man, I feel sorry for you.
Or that awful saying that goes something like this:
A son is your son until he takes him a wife. A daughter is your daughter for the rest of your life.
I love being a mom of boys and I know people aren’t trying to be mean, so these kind of comments don’t normally bother me. (Well, maybe except for the last one… who wants to ever think their child will go off and never return? What a horrible thought.) But the remarks aren’t exactly encouraging or uplifting either.
Recently, though, I heard a comment about my boys that I continually turned around in my head until it seeped deep into my heart. It made me feel like I could not possibly be blessed more than by being a mother of three sons. My family and I were eating breakfast at my grandmother’s senior living center. It was normal family mayhem. My husband and I helped our kids through the buffet. (“No, you cannot pile only doughnuts on your plate.”) We were up and down during the meal, refilling plates. We cleaned up an orange juice spill. Then our chaos was interrupted.
A resident came over to our table and said to me, “You have such beautiful boys.” She hesitated, as if trying to decide if she should say more, before finally adding, “I have three sons, too, and I love it. They take such good care of me.” She said it with such joy and pride, and went on to tell me how they treated her so well. The wisdom of her 90-something years and the passion in her voice as she spoke of her sons stirred my emotions. She ended our conversation by firmly stating, “They take better care of me than any daughter ever could. I am so happy I have three sons.”
Her words were lovely and uplifting.
If I think about it, I can see my boys also being amazing to me if someday I find myself in her shoes…
They already have all kinds of superhero powers and are continually fighting off the villains that daily enter our home. I know they will always be my protectors.
I am their favorite girl, and in many different ways they tell me so each and every day. How lovely will it be to always have three handsome men visiting me, no matter how old I am? That’s got to be good for the ego.
With them around, do I really ever need to open a door for myself? I will always be treated like royalty.
You should see some of the stuff they come up with when building Legos, or how they strategically place their Spy Gear around the house so they know exactly what is going on. To me, these are signs of brilliant, future adult minds, all capable of taking care of their mom.
And the energy my boys have? They for sure have enough energy to last them a lifetime. I don’t think I could possibly wear them out, even if in my old age I get crabby and demanding. They will always have the energy to take care of me.
As the lady from the retirement home walked away, I called to her, “Thank you for saying that to me.” She turned back around and our eyes met. We exchanged a knowing look that only two mothers of all boys would understand, connecting us across two generational gaps.
Mother of all boys. Yes, I do believe I hit the jackpot.
This article was originally published on The Huffington Post.
About the Author
Cheryl Elizabeth is a writer, mother, wife, and follower of Christ looking to bring joy to this world. You can read more of her awesome articles by clicking here and you can never miss a new post by following her Facebook here!