Living with Girls

I've said it before and I'll say it again--it's never dull living with girls. In fact, most days I wake up hoping for a dull day. You know, one where everything goes the way it's supposed to and nobody has any strong opinions on why it shouldn't be that way. The day when nobody yells at anybody else for hogging the bathroom mirror, locking the bathroom door, hiding the toothpaste or taking her brush. A kind of day when everyone is thankful for what is in their lunch and nobody walks out the door sad or mad.

BUT…I live with girls. That means those days are few. Instead, our days are filled with talk about boobies (and other body parts) and friends and why looks are not the most important thing about someone. And they are also filled with soccer talk, stinky smells emitting from shin guards, socks, cleats and bodies. And by bodies, I’m not just talking about sweat. Some days I wonder if I’m the only mom of girls who has to listen to a daily conversation about farts.

All in all, living with girls is good. I know others would kill for the opportunity to have daughters (my mother-in-law lives vicariously through my girls). And I am thankful for them. I call them passionate and strong-willed and pray those character traits will serve them well—I just wish they served them OUTside my house and not always IN.

So I’m off to see what the day holds. I made cinnamon rolls for breakfast (and by “made” I mean that I opened up a can and put it in the oven). The last time I made these, we had a total meltdown that resulted in me having to explain to the school nurse that my daughter (who was in her office with a tummy ache because she didn’t eat breakfast) DID have the opportunity to eat, but chose not to because she decided that morning she didn’t like cinnamon rolls anymore (Yes, this truly happened—I don’t make these things up, people).

So, Happy Wednesday, Y’all! May yours be as drama-free as mine!