Boys.

Boys are just different.

Growing up the youngest of three sisters, the strange behavior of boys still mystifies me some.  While we did have my dad around all those years, he didn't stand too much of chance with four women, one telephone, and one bathroom.  Estrogen permeated our home.  

As a testament to God's eternal sense of humor, I now find myself the only female in a house brimming over with testosterone.  And it is a foreign land to me some days.  No matter who tells you differently, boys and girls are just so...different.  Raising boys has been an adventure - sometimes it's been fun, and sometimes it has been shocking.  I have to constantly remind myself that they don't naturally operate the way I do.  

Today was the perfect example of that.  The boys were just restless.  We have been enjoying our new Wii (I have the pulled muscle to prove it!), but even with all the activity and action of Wii Sports, both boys seem edgy, out of sorts.

Now when I start feeling like that, I know what I need.  When the symptom is "out of sorts", the solution for me is some quiet time.  So I loaded up the boys and we headed to the library.  The boys love the library, and they each picked out some books and we spent time on the couches reading and relaxing before checking out our books and heading home.  They were some better, but I could still feel this energy brewing in them, ready to erupt.  

Then it dawned on me.  While I crave quiet time when I am out of sorts, these two boys crave action.  Yelling, screaming, flailing, running, jumping action.  If dirt can be involved, all the better.  We just spent the last hour and a half outside.  The boys dug in the dirt, shot baskets, zipped around on their scooters, went for a walk, picked up big sticks, talked about snakes, breathed fresh air, and tore apart packing peanuts and jumped on bubble wrap.  And I could almost physically see the tension fly out of them.  It was amazing.  

Boys are just so different.  I wouldn't trade my guys for any girl in the world, but I am reminded today (again!) that Jude and Calvin have different needs than I did as a little girl.  They live outside my box.  My pink, sequined, fluffy box.  All they want is a box of dirt, tools, and balls.  And then all is right in their world again.

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