Currently, I’m mom to two Rowdy boys and a sweet baby girl whose personality is just beginning to shine. I don’t know much about raising little girls yet, but I figure I’ll wing it until she’s a teenager, then seek tons of advice as to how to get through those few opinionated years until she is out the door to college. As for my boys, I’m still no expert at mothering, but I can tell you one thing: I’m raising my boys to be Southern gentlemen.
I’m not claiming they’ll be perfect little gents all the time, or even half the time, but I’m trying my darnedest to make sure they are Southern boys, and everything that comes along with that title. I know Southerness can be a bit cliche at times, but there are usually good reasons for that.
I’m raising my boys to love God and attend church on Sundays.
I’m raising my boys to say yes ma’am and no ma’am, as well as please and thank you.
I’m raising my boys to love college football, good sportsmanship and camaraderie.
I’m raising my boys to cherish family, protect their little sister and become each other’s best friend.
I’m raising my boys to love homemade biscuits and jelly, fresh peaches and casseroles.
I’m raising my boys to treat others kindly by helping carry groceries, offering their seats, opening doors and pulling out chairs.
I’m raising my boys to explore the great outdoors and play outside from dawn to dusk during the summer.
I’m raising my boys to appreciate the value of sweat and hard work.
I’m raising my boys to sport seersucker, polo shirts and boots, just like their Daddy.
I’m raising my boys to love Georgia red clay, with no fear of getting dirty or making messes.
And I’m praying that one day, when they’re much, much older, these rowdy Southern boys will snag fine young ladies as wives who value their Southern roots and upbringing.