The week before I was going to find out the gender of my baby, I went on a trip to Poland with a close friend from high school. Sitting on the flight back to the US, I suddenly realized I was surrounded by babies. As I looked closer, I realized every single one of the babies were boys. "It's a sign!" I thought, "I'm going to have a baby boy!"
I still remember the day we saw that little penis on the monitor. I'd begged the doctor to do an impromptu ultrasound at 17 weeks. When the baby appeared on the ultrasound monitor, the doctor pointed out the legs. "What's that between the legs doc????" I asked. "It's a boy!" he smiled. Immediately, tears sprung to my eyes. Tears of joy! Once I knew the sex of the baby, it all became so real to me. A little boy. Wow!
Now I admit, I am a real girly girl. I love pink, I always wear makeup, and try to dress cute (even though I'm a stay at home mom now). I hate sports and up until recently, I even hated exercise of any kind. Not to mention that in the 5 years of teaching experience I had before my son was born, most of my more umm...energetic children were boys. BUT for those of you who know me, or who read my blog "Acceptance", you know I have a mentally challenged older brother. For that reason alone, the most important thing to me was having a healthy child.
In the three years since my son was born, I've noticed some key differences between boys and girls.
Number one- the inequality of the clothing selection for boys versus girls. I get pissed off every time I go clothes shopping for my son. In department stores, there are always racks and racks of beautiful or adorable outfits and dresses for little girls. There are usually one or two racks for boys. Even in stores that specifically make clothing for children, the girl selection is waaaaay better. All the boys clothes look the same. In fact, since most of my close friends have little boys, I almost ALWAYS see one of my friends' sons wearing something that my son also owns. This especially annoys me at Easter and Christmas. I see tons of beautiful dresses for girls and for boys, I see sweater vests and khakis. Let's get more creative people!
Number two-toddler girls tend to be MUCH calmer than toddler boys. It's insane. I have heard this from several of my friends with boys. I will never ever forget the music class I took with my son when he was 20 months old. I was so embarrassed and frustrated because my son would not sit on my lap and listen to the teacher. I watched in horror as my son ran circles around the room while all the little girls (the same age!) sat in their mommies laps and participated. My breaking point was the day my wild child was running his normal circle laps and he ran smack into a little girl. They bumped heads and were both hysterical. The mother of the little girl shot me a look that could kill. I, of course, did the mature thing and proceeded to scoop up my child and run out of there as fast as I could. (I later asked for a refund for the remainder of the class and never went back, ha!).
As soon as I got into the car, I called my mom. I have her on speed dial for these types of situations. I sobbed into the phone all the way home. "I'm so embarrassed!!!" I cried, "I can never show my face in that class again!"
"Calm down, he's not even two yet!" she assured me.
"But mom", I sobbed, "I don't want him to be the bad kid in the class!" She just continued to tell me how ridiculous I was being. Of course, I was being ridiculous. Nowadays, I tend to think it's more normal for a two year old to run around in circles than to sit quietly on his mother's lap. After sharing this story with other moms, I realized that most of my friends who have little boys have similar "humiliating" stories. The more I heard, the sillier I felt for overreacting. A, who is almost 3, now goes to a music class at preschool twice a week and does GREAT! I actually cried the first time I watched one of his classes. I couldn't believe it was the same child from a year ago.
Who could forget about the end of the year preschool picnic? The day before the picnic, it rained a lot. The whole playground was wet but there was one particularly large mud puddle near the water fountain. I spend the first part of the picnic trying to keep my son away from the puddle. Another boy's momma finally told me, "give up, he's a boy!" So, give up I did. My son ended up covered in mud from head to toe. When it was time to leave, I had to take off everything he was wearing. He rode home in nothing but a diaper. And you know what? It was OK! Nothing a bath and a load of laundry couldn't fix. Plus he had a blast.
I have realized that there are some really awesome things about having a boy. Besides looking forward to smoother (hopefully) teenager years than some of my friends with girls, I must say, potty training a boy was a lot of fun. I potty trained him in the summer when he was able to pee outside and practice his aim. Unfortunately, I probably should have explained that it was okay for him only to pee outside, not poop. But that's a story for another blog. A few weeks ago, we were at the park with some friends. One friend's little girl said she had to go potty and my friend had to hurry and find a bathroom. Another friend's little boy had to pee a few minutes later. My friend proceeded to take her son into a shaded corner of the park, where no one could see, and pull down his pants. "I love having a boy!" she shouted. Obviously, my friends and I will have to stop doing this as our boys get a little older. After all, I'd hate for my son to be arrested for public indecency because of me.
Another great thing about having a little boy is that he loves his momma. Not only do I get to be his favorite person at home, but a few weeks ago, he also told me I was his best friend. Hubby constantly tells me that I'm my son's "person", meaning that I am the one he always wants. Again, I should probably discourage this when he is a little older. Otherwise, I might end up with one pissed off future daughter-in-law.
I'm not sure what we will end up having the next time around. Either way, I'm okay. Being the mother of a healthy happy little boy is the best thing I could ever ask for. Besides, my son continually gives me material to blog about. I vow to use that rocking chair somehow though!