I am going through an interesting phase as a mother to boys.

This phase, although unsure of the name, is realizing exactly what it is that boys do.

Having been born a girl with two sisters and no brothers I have absolutely no grasp on the childhood behaviors of boys.

My boys are 5 and 3 and to me they are still relatively little.

Every step of the way I have been exposed to something that I just never imagined would be a part of my mother-hood.

From the moment each of the boys could speak I think the words poop, penis and butt took their common place in our families daily lives.

For awhile we were hearing the word FART quite a bit but thankfully it seems to be losing it’s shine.

Aidan likes to say boobies now but not really because he thinks it’s funny to say but simply because he likes to point out my boobies.

He especially likes to tell me that he likes my boobies.

Loudly sometimes…while in Walmart even.

But right now the “boy thing” they are really into is roughhousing or as I like to call it, beating the crap out of one another.

It’s seriously insane and today I decided that I can’t be around it.

Darren and I were both home but we were also both doing separate things in separate rooms.

The boys were getting along and we weren’t having to reprimand as often as we normally do.

Aidan has been becoming a lot more vocal which helps him immensely when dealing with his sometimes overbearing brother.

Not only is he becoming more vocal but he’s learning and understanding that he has to hold his own AGAINST his brother or else risk being forced to follow his every command.

A few times while doing my tasks I had heard Aidan start to cry but it never lasted long.  I figured it was just him disputing something his brother was doing or trying to make him do.

At one point things had grown quiet so I went to investigate.

When I opened the door to Jacek’s room they were both on the bed, surrounded by pillows and all their stuffed animals.

They were both giggling and happy to see me.

I got on the bed with them and snuggled in, asked them what they had been doing, and playfully wrestled with them for a bit.

Then out of nowhere Jacek picked up “Orange Lips”,  his one orange beanie baby bear and with all the force he could muster pelted Aidan right in the belly with him.

Aidan laughed at first then grabbed his belly in discomfort and glanced at me.

Of course I was already lighting into Jacek about how unfair a shot it had been, that Aidan wasn’t playing that rough and to be careful because he could really hurt his brother.

“But we hit each other bunches of times” he says

With that bear?  He is full of hard beans!  That’s got to really hurt don’t you think?

“When Aidan hit me in the face before it did but not really”

He hit you in the face?

“Yeah, so I hit him back”

I look closely at Aidan and could see the reddish welt on his right cheek.

“You guys shouldn’t play so hard, someones really going to get hurt”

I look at Aidan who is still holding his belly.

“You okay buddy?  Did that hurt you?”

No, he says.  It didn’t hurt.

Then he grabs Max, a stuffed wiener dog and with no hesitation whacks Jacek upside the head with it.

They both break out into hysterical laughter.

Shaking my head I had to leave the room.

I couldn’t believe how hard they were hitting each other and I couldn’t bare to watch it.

I just kept thinking, “Really?!?  This is fun for you?!?  Really?!?”

Growing up, my sisters and I roughhoused but from what I remember it was always them against me.

A bean bag pressed over my head, a twist pinch on my upper arm, kidnapping of my stuffed animals, etc.

I don’t remember thinking it was fun.

I figured boys would be rougher then girls, even us three tom girls but I didn’t quite figure it would start already.

Boys will be boys?

Perhaps it’s as simple as being a girl and just not understanding.

I hope they don’t think they’re taking any of those bean stuffed toys to school.

The last thing I want to be worrying about is them beaning their teacher someone else.

I know what you’re thinking.

You’re thinking: “This is just the beginning” right?

I’m not all naive.  I do have some idea of what to expect in the future.

Thankfully my husband was once a little boy and while he didn’t have any siblings he did have several rock throwing cousins.

I’ve seen the scars and heard the stories.

From beans to rocks?

Surely, no.

Right?

Let’s hope there’s something in between.