Things I am learning to accept as a mother of these little boys:
If it can be said, it must be shouted. Louder is always better.
"It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye."
Checking pockets before doing laundry will always be an adventure.
"Please give that to me" or "Can you get ____ for me?" is translated as "please throw that at my head." Always say "please hand that to me." This does not guarantee it will not be thrown at me, but it does lessen the odds.
The bathroom will always smell...off...I'm sure you can guess why.
Stitches. Blood, bruises, bonks, falls, bandaids, scrapes, cuts, splinters, black eyes, concussions, and injuries in general.
Silence is silly. Why be quiet when there are explosion, gunfire, and fighting sound effects to be made?
No. They can't sit still. Stop asking.
They will always think it is time to eat, whether we just finished a meal or not.
Nothing should only be used for its intended purpose. A soccer ball serves just as well as a pretend bomb. A couch works just as well as a trampoline.
The walls, carpet, furniture, etc. will never look pristine for more than an hour. (My walls...my poor, poor walls.)
Hitting with a smile on your face is funny. Hitting with fire in your eyes is a capital offense.
It is not common sense to wash one's hands.
Sleep is for sissies.
And I am a sissy.