The Boys Are Growing Up (*Cue Sad Music, So Mama Can Tear Up*)

Well.

I honestly have realized some things this week, and I’m not sure how I feel about them.

First of all, I already mentioned here that Hubs and I have come to a point in our parenting career where our 95-pound 7th grader and JUST ONE FRIEND can eat an entire large pizza by themselves.  I’m not sure how the boy can stuff six slices of pizza into his digestive system in a single sitting and still maintain his sassy, I’m-Just-A-Skeleton-With-Skin-Over-Here figure.  It doesn’t seem fair that the thirteen-year-old male body is allowed to consume grease and cheese like that, and burn twice as many calories as it took in, just sitting in a bean bag chair, playing video games.  The same goes for Hubs.  He has this thing for fudge bars.  He eats one EVERY.  SINGLE.  NIGHT.  and, so far, I think he’s lost 5 pounds this month, because he skipped lunch the other day.

Do you know what fudge bars can do, when combined with estrogen?

The other thing that has recently been brought to my attention is that the boy WILL NOT STOP GROWING.  You would think that with all the complaining that I do, about how my older son just keeps blowing through the clothes, the boy would be venturing into six-foot-one territory now.

No.

The boy has always been on the… How do I say this without offending the testosterone?… SHORT side of life.  He has grown over seven-and-a-half inches in the past several months, and he’s finally topped out at 5-foot-4-and-one-mark-past-the-4.

(Do you know what I don’t really care about?  That would be precise measuring.)

I just placed a rather large online order for new clothes for that boy of ours today, because the alternative is that he’s going to have to wrap himself in a beach towel out of the linen closet for school days.  Everything in his closet is too small (Again!), and he may need to get a job now, just to pay for new T-shirts and windpants.

What I realized today, as I was filling an online shopping cart with merchandise, is that the boy (MY BABY!  MY FIRSTBORN!) is officially an Adult Men’s Size Small in T-shirts at places like Hollister and Abercrombie and American Eagle.  This makes my heart beat in a funky rhythm of stress, because how did my 7 POUNDS, 7 OUNCES BABY BOY WIND UP TALL ENOUGH TO WEAR AN ADULT MEN’S SMALL IN SHIRTS?!

Who is this Man Child who lives with us, and where did he come from?

Thankfully, Under Armour has heard the cries of mamas everywhere, as they mourn the ending of their babies’ childhoods.  Under Armour (bless their hearts) makes their clothes big enough that the boy can still wear a Youth XL comfortably.

Thank you, Under Armour, for your kindness to the mothers of this great nation.

And finally, the other thing that I have realized is that life is never going to be the same around here again, because Thing 2 has learned to OPEN THE SLIDING PANTRY DOORS ANY TIME HE DADGUM FEELS LIKE IT.

Yesterday, a whole new world was opened up to him, as he amazed himself by pushing the sliding doors wide open and LOOK!  THIN MINTS!!!!  And it doesn’t really matter HOW HIGH I put the Girl Scout Cookies in the pantry, because?  Have you been reading this blog for long?  Thing 2 can climb anything and everything, and pantry shelves are like an easy ladder for him.

Yesterday, he ate numerous Thin Mints before I caught him.  He looked at me and said, “Oh, no!  What happened?”  What happened is that his entire face was covered in chocolate, and I didn’t need any video surveillance equipment to determine who the cookie thief was.

Later yesterday, he grabbed an open package of little oyster crackers and spread them out on the kitchen floor like he was feeding ducks.

Our loaf of bread is now squished to a geometric shape that most closely resembles the size of a cell phone.

The salt and vinegar chips (which I had hidden from the boy, because… if I don’t… there will be NONE for his cold lunches during the week) are crushed to sour, salty dust, because Thing 2 can climb and find things that his brother tends to miss.

I am thinking that Hubs’ and my best option here is to run some electrical fence in front of the pantry’s double sliding doors.  Then we need to turn the voltage up to SO?  YOU THINK YOUR HAIR IS CURLY NOW, DO YOU?, and see if we can’t manage to keep our toddler OUT of the snacks.

So that’s pretty much what’s been happening at our house over the past twenty-four hours or so.

Oh!  And Hubs and the boy and I finally watched Frozen last night, because I swiped the DVD from Sister’s children yesterday.  Somehow I missed seeing this one in the theater, so YAY!  It was all new for me last night, and I enjoyed it thoroughly, even though Hubs and the boy sat in the living room with me and said things like, “Oh, m gosh!  HOW MANY SONGS do we need to sing in this movie?  When will the singing end?  Have I ever told you how bad I hate musicals?”

Yes.  They’ve told me, and they both reminded me of that fact more than a dozen times last night.

But honestly, I’m pretty sure that I was meant to be a princess, just like the Frozen girls.

10014560_721320527913406_2003563472_nBecause cleaning up all the oyster crackers and melted Thin Mints up off my floors is work, people, and I’m not sure that real princesses participate in stuff like that.

The fact that I’ve just now gotten onto the bandwagon to watch Downton Abbey confirms it, because I think I’ve missed my calling in life…

… which was to have an entire fleet of servants, running around my palatial estate, making beds and dicing carrots for the soup and steam-pressing my dinner gowns.

And really, I would assign one of those nice servants to be the Pantry-Mess-Clean-Up girl, and another one to be the Please-Sit-With-The-Boy-At-The-Computer-And-Have-Him-Pick-Out-Shirts-Online-Which-Is-Only-Marginally-Better-Than-Shopping-In-Real-Stores-With-Him girl.

The sad thing is, I’m going to be buying a lot of Excedrin Migraine tablets and peppermint essential oils for those two girls’ headaches.  They’re going to have the two toughest jobs of the house staff.

Y’all have a happy Tuesday evening.

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