The Frat House

I am surrounded by boys.  I have two sons.  I have a husband.  Our cat. . .you guessed it, is a boy.

Our home is lacking in the estrogen department.

All things bodily are hysterical, at the moment.  Burps?  Yup.  Farts?  Yup.  External body organs?  Yup.  Any mention of these things usually results in serious guffaws, and it's not just limited to the 7 & 8 year old boys. . .Ummm, hmmmm.  My boys are destructive.  No matter how much I clean, it looks like a tornado has gone through my home. . .My boys are loud - they talk loudly, they yell loudly, they play games loudly - even the Big Boy (aka Husband) plays his music loud.  The cat even leaves the occasional pile of puke, to add to the mess and chaos.

Clearly, I am not alone in this, if there is such an accurate quote about it!

 

 



So, when people ask me, "how can you run so long?"  I think to myself,
"Cold rainy days?  You got nothing on the noise level in my home!" 
"Hills?  You got nothing on the destruction my children create!"
"Mile 10?  You got nothing on the whiny arguments that occur approximately every three minutes!"
"Sore muscles?  You got nothing on the endless bodily function jokes!"

Every now and then, I get bit by the "girlie bug".  I will buy something pink (not often), or actually make an attempt at doing my hair (hopeless).  I don't even own any make-up -  I think a chimpanzee with a nervous tic could apply it better than I, so I don't even bother.  In fact, all the nail polish in our home is owned by the 7 year old (that's another story).

This past weekend I went shopping.  I bought a running skirt.  It has ruffles. 
It helps to remind that I am a woman, and not just "one of the guys." 

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE having boys.  I really, really do!  But they are loud.  They are messy.  They are incredibly destructive.  They argue. . .a lot.   Did I mention messy?  They tear up our sofa, they've poked a hole in the top of the ottoman, and they like to shove toys down into the hole.  Cushions apparently belong on the floor, and I think we could feed a small country with the food wedged into the sofa crevices.

They do think that burping and farting are the funniest things ever.  The current joke, a la my 7 year old:

Why does the superhero flush the toilet?

 

It was his doody (duty)!

I feel like I live in a frat house.  It prepares me well for the difficulties in life.  I can handle a lot of difficult situations and people, because of the "frat house."  I enjoy my running time, away from the "frat house." 

And when I am pushing myself, at Mile 10, uphill, in the cold, rainy, weather. . .I say to myself,
"I can handle this, because I handle the Frat House."


And I'm wearing ruffles.