"Boys are beyond the range of anybody’s sure understanding, at least when they are between the ages of 18 months and 90 years.”

Tonight I told Dylan and Lucas that they could play outside, but they had to stay in the front yard. About 15 minutes later, I hear the door bell ring. Being the obedient boys they are, I open up the door and there is Luke completely covered in mud from head to toe. He looks at me and with the most serious look on his face he says, "Mom, can I go and play in the mud?"

Are you kidding? I couldn't believe it! What goes through the minds of my boys, I will never know. What made them think that they could go over to the neighbors backyard and jump into an irrigation ditch get completely covered in mud from head to toe and then think, "I am going to go home and ask my mom if I can play in mud." I just don't understand.

When I went over to get Dylan, he was in the ditch and was rolling in mud and having a grand old time. He couldn't get out of the ditch because he was so muddy and the ditch was high and slippery. He had no shirt on and his pants were so filled with mud that they were falling down.

This muddy incident is days after I walked into their room on a Sunday morning to find a mother's worst nightmare..... Permanent marker all over their window seal. All I told them was to get a coloring book and crayons and color some pictures. That is all they had to do, but instead I get this.....

I don't know how many times both of my boys have gotten into trouble for writing on the walls, couches, clothes, floor and anything else they can get their hands on. Seriously, what made them think that they could pick up a permanent marker and color all over everything and think

"Mom won't mind. I bet she will think this is a masterpiece."

AHHHH, Calgon take me away!

Here is a little poem that sums it up...

Raising Boys

Author: Roberta I. Teague

I scrub the wall of fingerprints, Pick up the mounds of clothes.

I sweep the dirt that shoes track in- Wish I could use a hose!

Meals are served from dawn to dark, Dirty dishes crowd the sink.

Just when they’re washed and put away- Everyone wants a drink!

The washer pulls the dirty grime From pants worn thin and patched.

They look so very neat and clean- Yuck, look what the pockets hatched!

Broken bones and bloody knees, I should have been a nurse.

I take it all in shaky stride- Just grateful it’s not worse!

Screams and shouts and arguments Test the keeping of my cool.

They left the neighbor’s faucet on- See their new front yard pool!

A soothing bath is ecstasy, A reward at the end of my rope.

Raising boys isn’t really bad- But first I must wash the soap!

A rose can say I Love You, Orchids can enthrall;

But a weed bouquet in a chubby fist, Oh my, that says it all!