When my kids were born, I had this great fantasy that I would raise them in a gender-neutral household, in which girls could play with Legos and boys could play with dolls, and that we would be the ultimate, nurture over nature family.

“Remember always that you not only have the right to be an individual, you have an obligation to be one.” - Eleanor Roosevelt

There are some boys who come out of the womb wearing a sports jersey and holding a beer mug. These boys love sports - watching them, playing them, talking about them, thinking about them.

The other day I said “Don’t punch your weenies!” and as I walked away I thought, seriously…did I just say that?

When it comes to raising boys, I can’t believe I have to say these things but apparently you do.

Here are five things I never thought I would say...

1. “Put the mouse back in the house!” (If you have boys, you ALL know what I am referring to!)

Bullying is a hot topic now. The talk shows want more on bullying, the blogosphere is full to the brim with posts on bullying, and left and right there are speakers on the topic of bullying.

With the end of the school year fast approaching, I thought this would be the year that I would make some “mom friends.”

You know: Shuffle our children off after school for play dates, go out to dinner every once in a while, get tipsy laughing over the school principal, maybe go for walks in the mornings... but it didn’t happen.

Lately I feel as if not a single day goes by that I don’t say to at least one of my children, “What were you thinking?” I swear it feels as if it is my mantra - in a one week period I found myself saying it at least once to each of my children.

I am a mom of two boys.

‘Nuff said.

Seriously, if you have two boys (or three or four), you’ll know what I’m talking about.

The constant fighting, arguing, name calling - make it stop!

My daughter thinks she is a boy.

I realized the chances of her being a tomboy were quite high, what with two older brothers and all.

I have absolutely no issue with that, except for where clothing is concerned.

The other day, I dropped a cast iron skillet on my pinky toe. I was aware my daughter was in earshot, so I let out a long string of faux curses that I always say, “Mother of goodness…holy bananas… mother farger, that hurt!”