Boys Will Be Boys

Boys are messy.  Boys are loud.  Boys are energetic.  Boys will be boys.
Boys think they're tough.  Boys make funny noises.  Boys will be boys.
Boys can be sweet.  Boys can have potty mouths.  Boys will be boys.
Boys will lust after women.  Boys will take advantage of girls.  Boys are controlling.  Boys will be boys...?
We've been hearing a lot on the news about men sexually harassing or assaulting women.  There are some who would say that this is just the nature of the male sex.  They can't help themselves.  Men will be men.  Those people couldn't be more wrong.
Something that really boils my broccoli is when people brush things aside with an excuse such as "He's a man, what do you expect?" or "All men are just idiots".  I've been hearing that a lot in my adult life.  But I don't say anything.  I just smile and nod while inside I wonder, does this person consider me an idiot?
Believe it or not, men actually can control themselves.  They can be decent human beings.  It's all dependent upon the way they are raised and the choices they make.
I was raised to treat everyone with respect, to treat everyone the same.  It didn't matter what someone looked like.  It didn't matter if someone was mean to me.  I had to treat everyone kindly.  To this day, I still try to treat everyone with respect.
Having worked with children as long as I have, I have heard a lot of little boys repeat words that they probably shouldn't be repeating.  Not just swear words.  I've had to explain to kids why they shouldn't talk or joke around about their private parts or, even more importantly, private parts of the opposite gender.  This is psychology by Philip:  If a child is permitted to joke around about sensitive topics, such as private parts, they are basically being taught that they have no boundaries when it comes to human anatomy.  This makes them more comfortable with talking about the opposite gender in crude ways.  This in turn may (key word may) lead to these children growing up still not knowing boundaries.
While I was working in a restaurant, a lot of my co-workers, male and female, would talk about their or someone else's bodies.  I was usually the one trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.  It just shocked me how casually people talked about sex, and with so much detail.  It seemed as though people were only thinking about the body and not the person behind the body.
I could rant about this all day.  But I won't.  While raising your children, just remember:
Boys are messy.  Teach them to clean up after themselves.
Boys are loud.  Teach them to be considerate of those around them.
Boys can have potty mouths.  Teach them the correct ways to use (or not use) certain words.
Boys will be boys, but that doesn't mean they have to be idiots.

Don't Waste My Time

This time a year ago, I was working between 8-10 hours a day, 4-6 days a week.  But that's all I was doing.  While I was at home, I would waste my time on Facebook, playing video games, watching TV, or sleeping.  Usually sleeping, to be honest.
Now, I am working three jobs (one with random hours), I try to visit with my Little Brother every week, I blog every Thursday, I dog sit on occasion, and I dabble in the photographic arts.  I am also active in my church and volunteer at my church.  I could use a break!  So what do I do?  I consider the unused hours between everyday life and bedtime.  Call me crazy, but I'll soon be signing up for an online college course.  And I still apply to weekend child care jobs, despite my three jobs.  What is wrong with me?!
This year, I realized that are a lot of minutes in a day.  Why waste them?  I have found positive ways to spend my time.  Through my jobs, I'm not only making money, but I'm also helping the children I take care of.  I have become a part of their lives, someone to look up to.  Visiting with my Little gets me out of the house doing fun things.  I have the opportunity to be a good example to a child who needs a positive male role model in his life.  And yet, my Little has been the example for me.  While volunteering at church, I have learned more about myself and what I am capable of.
Am I tired?  No.  I'm exhausted!  But it's all worth it.  My life has changed so much this past year, for the better.  And I feel that this is the result of not wasting my time.  I am living life, loving life.  I live life differently than most people, but I enjoy what I do. 

What the BLEEP?!

One day, at the tender age of four years old, I called a kid an unkind word.  My older sister told my mom and I got to taste dish soap for the first (and last) time.  A couple of years ago, I was talking to my mom about this incident.  I didn't understand why I got my mouth washed out for calling someone a name.  My mom told me that I didn't just call someone a name.  I used the 'F' word. 
The word that I haven't used since that day 22 years ago is 'fraidy cat'.  (Notice that 'fraidy' starts with an 'F'.)  My older sister had told my mom that I had said the 'F' word. 
Needless to say, as a child, I was very careful about what I said.  If a fun-hearted name calling resulted in me drinking suds, what would something really vulgar result in?  Like poopy-face?  Or fartknocker?  Then I entered middle school.  It was like everyone was speaking a different language. 
My mom had taught my siblings and I to ask her or dad if we didn't know what a word meant.  So I knew better than to repeat any of the words I was hearing, especially after seeing the teachers' reactions to them.
Next came high school.  The language got even worse.  There was no way to get away from it.  Even after graduation.  I was surrounded by profanity at work and at college.  It just comes out so naturally from some people, without a thought.
So it came as no surprise to me when the 13-year old accused me of being a hypocrite.  In a previous post, I explained the 13-year old's "What the What" jar, in which he receives a token every time he curses.  (I'm proud to say that I haven't used it in a couple months.)  One day, after I put a token in the jar, the 13-year old confronts me.  He felt that it was unfair that he couldn't curse.
"You're an adult," he said.  "You curse all the time when you're not here."
Wow.  Just wow.
I guess I can see where he's coming from.  He probably hears profanity all the time in school, on the street, on TV, on the radio.  To him, it truly is an adult thing to do.  I tried to convince him that I did not use foul language.  He didn't believe me.  It honestly hurt my feelings, being accused of something I don't do.  But like I said, I can see where the 13-year old was coming from.
I believe that using profane language is plain dumb.  What does it accomplish?  Isn't there a better way to express yourself?  Shut the front door, there is a better way?  Well by golly, see if you can figure it out for yourself.

Adventures in Babysitting

I rarely have a boring day working with the boys.  We have fun days.  We have angry days.  We have silly days.  Every day is different.  I never know what to expect.  My favorite thing about the boys is that they always make me smile, even if it's not on purpose.
For the sake of this post, the boys will be known by the following titles:
The 5-year old will be known as 'French Fry'
The 11-year old will be known as 'His Majesty'
The 13-year old will be known as 'M'

M likes to keep to himself for the most part.  But over the summer, I like to think that we became buddies.  We went to Hershey Park one day.  M and His Majesty were arguing over who got to sit next to me on the roller coaster.  I had them guess what number I was thinking of.  M won.  So I sat with him.
While waiting in line, I don't remember what we were talking about, but M and I had a disagreement.  M raises his voice a little and asks "Do you want me to make a scene?"  Before I can reply, he says, clapping his hands once "Aaand cut!" as if he is a director ending a scene.  I have never been so proud of that boy!  That joke my day!
His Majesty is always fun to be around.  He's got such great energy and an awesome sense of humor.  He's one of those kids that likes to hide and then jump out and scream when you least expect it.  He's not very good at hiding, though.  (Don't tell him I said that!)
His Majesty can be quite bossy, though, thus the nickname.  He likes it when I say "Yes, Your Majesty."  He smiles, but then catches himself and says "please".  One day, I took the boys to this awesome playground.  His Majesty asked me to throw away his Capri Sun pouch (without saying please).  So I said "Of course, Your Majesty".  His Majesty glared at me and said "Not in public, Philip!".
The jokes this boy tells!  He loves 'Yo Momma' jokes.  We were telling each such jokes one day.  His Majesty starts out with "Yo Momma's so ugly, when One Direction saw her, they went the other direction."  I fought back with "Yo momma's so fat, she uses a boomerang to put on her belt."  French Fry then chimed in with "Yo Momma's so fat, she wears a yellow hat!"  French Fry won.
Speaking of French Fry...I spend most of my day with French Fry.  He randomly started calling me 'Nugget Head', so I call him French Fry. I'll often say his name to get his attention, then repeat it a couple more times.  I'll then say "French Fry!".  He looks up from whatever he is doing and says "My name's not French Fry!"  But, I got his attention!  Works every time!
French Fry loves playing on the computer at the library.  He usually plays Reader Rabbit, but the other day, he played The Berenstein Bears.  While listening to one of the stories, French Fry calls me over to tell me that Brother Bear had just said a bad word.
"He said 'shut up'!  Freak you Brother Bear!"
I told French Fry to use kind words then quickly went off to a corner of the library to bust up laughing.
French Fry also loves swimming.  One day, I took all three boys to the pool.  At one point, French Fry informs me that he has to poop.  So off he goes to the bathroom.  Fifteen minutes later, he's still in the bathroom, so I go in to check on him.  I know right away which stall he is in.  I follow the sound of splashing.  I get him to unlock the door for me.  He opens the door, stark naked, water and and toilet paper all over the floor.  He walks over to the toilet and pulls out his bathing suit.
"I didn't make it in time.  I need to wash my bathing suit."
Ok, Philip, stay calm, I think to myself.  I obviously can't let French Fry back in the pool.  So I fetch his clothes and begin dressing him.  We get his undies on (backwards) when he slips out of my grasp and runs out of the locker room.  He runs around the pool in nothing but his backwards underwear.  I catch him on his way to the parking lot.
Needless to say, we had a long talk on the way home.
As you all know, I love my job.  I love these boys.  They bring so much joy into my life.  We have our struggles, but we're always able to work through them. At the end of the day, M, His Majesty, French Fry and I are the best of friends.  I wouldn't have it any other way.