Boys and Noise

As the mom of three boys, my house was usually filled with all kinds of noise. Yelling, jumping, wrestling. I got used to it. I say that, because I was always a very quiet person. Growing up, I rarely spoke unless someone spoke to me. I was shy to the point of pain. So, my life in a house full of loud males was a bit unsettling for me. Even my oldest son told me once that I was out-numbered and he felt sorry for me that I didn’t have any little girls.

I tuned out the noise, most of the time. When all three boys were home, most weekends, they had friends over, when we weren’t at rodeos or sports events. I got used to fixing huge pots of whatever we were eating, because invariably there was at least one extra kid at the table.

I never minded. I had lots of extra kids at school that called me ‘mom’. It was a term of endearment that I liked. Slowly, there have been fewer kids around the house. Partly, because my older two boys are now away at college, so their high school friends are away too. I don’t see them as often. And I don’t know as many of their college friends.

Partly, the divorce has played a part as well. I live farther from town, so Garris’ friends don’t make it to my house as often. And truth be told, he doesn’t have as many close friends as his brothers did. He’s more of a loner than his brothers were.

But he’s loud in his own way. When he comes through the front door, the noise level in the house increases exponentially. He almost reverberates sound. It’s almost like he can’t help himself. He has to sing or yell or make noise if he’s conscious.

He has to antagonize the dogs or the cats. He has to throw a ball, even if I just told him not to. He has to throw his backpack on the floor instead of place it.

In short, he pushes my buttons to the point where I lose my patience. And then my voice gets louder. That seems to be his goal. That seems to make him happy.  And we have found our own groove together. I let him think he really annoys me, when in reality, I look at this as our little game. It’s one last way that we can play together now that he’s a teenager.

On the weeks I’m home alone, I remind myself that in three short years, I’m going to be in a very quiet house 24/7 and I will be craving the noise and the movement that Garris brings with him. I need to find some patience on those days that he pushes my buttons and remember that his persistence is his boy way of showing me that he loves me. He pesters me to remind me that he’s in my life and that he’s full of piss and vinegar. He has brought me out of my shell since the divorce.

On my darkest days, it’s his noise that has gotten me out of bed and forced me to join the world. It’s his pestering that has kept me grounded and kept me focused on what really matters: my boys.

Oh, what would I do without him and his noise!

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