Third Times a Charm

 

By: Samantha S. Daviss

 

It’s official…we get the “Household of the Year” award. I can officially Tweet about myself #momofthreeboys; #ER-veteran; #areyoukiddingme?

 

I am lobbying for Emergency Room Fast Passes (not to coin a phrase used by the Disney Corporation). But we have officially now taken all three boys to the Emergency Room for stitches and/or staples. Since birthing my three angels, I go into the ER, almost like a guilty suspect in a bank robbery would walk out of the bank with their hands above their head. But instead I walk in saying what a great mom I am, and that our house is safe, and that CPS doesn’t need to come pay us a visit, it is just a house filled with three boys. I say it with a smile, so they don’t think I am some lunatic damaging my children, or neglecting them.

I am thinking that maybe they need to have our files on hand, just to the right of their computers…knowing the Daviss boys will be paying a visit at some point in time that month. I have been so often that I feel like I deserve a punch card, so on my 10th visit I should get something free, like a cup of coffee, a roll of bubble wrap to wrap my children in, or a free add-on to our house that is a padded room so they can all play and not damage each other.

This however, was the first sibling inflicted wound. The other two cases have been pretty much self- inflicted. The baby fell about a year ago, just walking across the parking lot and a small pebble lodged in his forehead, which required stitches. And the oldest was about eight when his incident happened. He was talking horseback riding lessons, the horse spooked, and off he went clipping his little face on horse’s hoof creating a need for stiches in his chin.

This past Friday night was a little chaotic in my household. I had just returned home to my mom babysitting my boys, because I was at one of my best friend’s grandmother’s visitations, who had sadly passed earlier in the week.

My oldest had come home from school that day with a 102 temperature, so he was snuggled in bed with soup, ibuprofen, and sleeping soundly; and the little ones were just playing joyfully with grandma. Then about 10 minutes after being home my oldest woke up needing me, and the babies were playing in my room. I was away from them for maybe three minutes to take the oldest one’s temperature. When all of the sudden a scream echoed through the house. It was loud, but a normal scream from someone hitting someone else, or stealing someone’s truck. I did immediately go survey the situation…when the middle one said “He threw his sippy cup at my head Mommy.” I thought, okay this has happened before. So I put the laundry down, walked over to give him a quick “Mommy makes it all better kiss”. But as I approached him, his entire left shirt shoulder was covered in blood.

Of course my husband was out of town for work, so I called the parentals back, to now watch the oldest and youngest, and off I went to the ER with bloody head and grandpa in tow this time.

 

As we pulled up to the ER, I knew the routine…fill out the paperwork, get a wrist band for myself and the baby, wait for triage, and head on back. Once in the back, the doctors were great and my little man was a trooper. He took it like a champ. The nurse had to ask him if he felt safe at home, and his response was very clear… “Yes, but sometimes my brothers take my toys from me.” So you see it’s all relative.

Like I always say, I don’t know what I would do if I had a girl…but when I was pregnant with my third, one of my girlfriend’s just knew it was another boy…and she cordially welcomed me to the “Mom of Three Boys Club”…I wasn’t sure why she said it with a smirk on her face…but now I know why.

The joys of motherhood is definitely a ride, but the thrill is being a mom of all boys. All I can do is hang on tight, and pray for the safety every single day. Even though they are rough and tumble, their hearts are filled with a devotion and admiration for their mommy, like no other.

 

Why do Girls Cost More?

 

By: Samantha S. Daviss

 

When my husband and I first started dating, he was deep into bachelorhood. But I guess my whit, charm, and dazzling personality wooed him enough to help him see the error of his ways, and that dating, marriage, children, and family were more his speed; and the single life was his former life.

But during his single life, he was forced to only care for himself, shop for himself, and clean for himself. He never realized the expense girls must incur. Sure he shopped for former girlfriends, and he knows that girls just shop more…period. But now that he is in the throes of wedded bliss, he is starting to realize that being a girl just simply costs more than being a boy.  I’ve always realized this issue, but this has really become a point of contention with my husband, ever since he really had to start paying attention to my clothes, and the expenses I was incurring.

Now I’m not talking about our “frivolous girlie needs” like manicures, pedicures, or massages. Although, our men may complain about the cost of those luxuries, they wouldn’t have anything less than a quaffed beauty on their arm. No I am talking about comparing apples to apples, everything that a man needs a woman needs.

For example, I understand that a woman getting her hair styled and colored should cost a lot more than a man’s haircut; no, what I am talking about is a simple trim. My husband can get his hair cut from anywhere between $16 and $25. But when I want just to trim my hair, I am not talking styling, or layering, or anything tricky, I am simply needing a trim to cut off the dead ends…why is my hair cut typically three times more expensive than his haircut?

An even better comparison is a white button down shirt; clean, simple, and neat. We all need one, for one reason or another, be it for work, for casual wear, whatever your style is, I personally think a white button down is a staple needed in anyone’s closet. But a woman’s button down, on the average, runs at least double to four times more expensive than a man’s button down. And in so doing this comparison, I am cross referencing within the same store. I am not comparing some elite boutique to an average chain store. I am truly comparing apples to apples. So why is this, I ask you?

Is it because the women do most of the shopping, so the retailers know that we will pay more, because we are trapped? I wish there was something we could all do about it. I wish we could take a stand. But I know, that shopping, hunting, and scavenging for that “awesome deal” is in our DNA as woman. But think about it, what if…what if there was a world of equality, in the retail industry.

We do the same jobs as men, yet we are still paid less, even in the year 2013; but yet, we need the same clothes, and luxuries that men need and want, and we are charged double, if not more. Funny, I am definitely no math major, but that really doesn’t add up, now does it? We are paid less, but have to spend more to clothe ourselves. Kind of makes you go “Hmmmmm?”

Only place we get a price cut is on “Ladies’ Night” at the bar…but that’s not much of a deal, because we have weird, annoying men bothering us all night, in the same button down shirt that we are wearing, but he paid half of what we paid for ours. So darn right we should get free drinks.

I know we can never stop shopping, but wouldn’t it be nice to be able to pay the same prices men pay for the items in their closet? Can you imagine the damage we could do then, ladies?

But seriously, it’s an unusual concept, and you have to admit that it is. But I have always sat idly by my entire life and paid the prices that are required of me as a woman; but humorously, this issue irritates my husband more than it does me.

Just something to think about.

 

Boys are Completely Different Creatures

 

By: Samantha S. Daviss

 

It’s funny, I get asked all the time if I wished I had a little girl mixed into to my brood of testosterone that is literally slung against the walls of our house on a daily basis. And my simple response is always, the truth, “I don’t think I would know what to do with a little girl”.

We recently went on a trip for the Thanksgiving holiday, and as I was walking through the airport I saw the cutest little girl carrying her baby doll under her arm; but then I turned to my right and saw my two youngest boys with their noses plastered against the big glass windows just drooling over all the airplanes taking off and taxing around right before their big eyes, and it warmed my heart to know that even though they are rough and tumble (on a daily basis) I wouldn’t trade my three little men for the world.

We were lucky enough to spend the holiday in the mountains enjoying the first layer of snow and the crisp mountain air; but my boys’ idea of fun is having snowball fights (even in the middle of the resort village), and going on adventure hikes that follow the flow of the chilly creek that snakes through, around, and out of the resort village; and of course all three of my boys were willing and able to try ice skating on the pond that isn’t completely frozen edge to edge, just yet.

Not to worry, the professionals had the “safe zone” marked off for skating, but there is always that chance that a part of the ice may not be as secure as old mom would like it to be. But nonetheless, all three of them got out there and gave it a try. The three year old immediately ran in the building and asked for a pair of “skaters” (a.k.a. skates), and the two year old instantly took to the ice in his snow boots, running from one end of the ice to another; while the eleven year old practiced his baseball slides on the ice and snow, only to soak every fiber of his jeans and sweatshirt to the core.

But that folks is life with boys. There is never a dull moment; in fact, after we returned home from our adventure…we had a great day out in the gorgeous Texas autumn weather playing at the park all day and taking our dogs to swim in the frigid, frigid lake waters of Richland Chambers. And that was just a Sunday afternoon with our family.

However, like I said, there is never a dull moment in our household. Because a typical school night consists of our eleven year old trying to focus on his homework, while I’m finishing up a load of laundry and cooking dinner. But in a recent evening, the two little ones managed to sneak out into the garage (that is closed and secure of course) and bring their scooter and big wheel bike into the house. I was curious where this activity was headed, so I quietly stood back to observe their little brains in action.

And who knew, they created the one most dangerous game they could have come up with. Our house has about three small steps down into a den, and what did they do? But of course, they rode their scooter and bike down the steps over and over again.

Under my close observation I stood there and watched them and just laughed hysterically, because they were laughing that incredible infectious laugh that all babies and toddlers have when they can just fill a room with happiness.

And then not 30 seconds later our oldest comes flying down the stairs armed with toy guns and crossbows, hitting the ground with an abrupt military role as if he were seeking out the enemy.

I sat there in amazement that their little minds can not only conjure up this activities, that may in fact do some serious bodily harm, but more to the fact that they have no regards to the fact that they could tumble head over heels down the stairs, or even impale themselves on one of their toys.

But with that said, I thank God every night that I go to bed for giving me the three most wonderful, energetic boys with the best imaginations a mother could ask for; all the while praying for their safety on a daily basis.

It’s a mother of boys’ prayer, it is simple, and short, and God knows exactly what you are asking of him.

“Please watch over my boys, and keep them safe in your arms.

You know it’s funny, I really don’t know if I would know what to do with a little girl. I think God knows exactly what he is doing. I was in a store today with one of my boys, and a lady asked if he was my only; and the store owner (who knows me well), chuckled and said “Nope, that’s one of three boys” and she nodded in my direction, “and look she’s still smiling” the store owner finished. And all I could say is “I have a lot of under eye concealer for all my dark circles”. And it’s the truth, I don’t sleep much, I don’t get to put my feet up much, and I certainly don’t get to wear an outfit more than once before cleaning it; but God knew what he was doing.