I know, I know, I talk about them a lot. But, I can't help myself. I just love them so much that I can hardly stand it.
Before I had children I had always assumed that I would be the mother of girls, or at least a girl. The male quotient is lacking in our family, to say the least. I have 3 sisters, 4 nieces and only one nephew. So when my OB told me that my first child was a boy I was bewildered at best. "A boy? Are you sure?" I thought maybe he had misspoken, after all, his French makes it difficult to understand him at times.
"Yes, madam. This is a penis so I am sure it is a boy." That was crystal clear.
A boy? What the hell am I gonna do with a boy? I was fully prepared to adorn, accessorize, primp and groom a sweet little girl. But a boy? Boys are stinky and dirty and there are just no cute clothes out there for little boys.
When I told my family most of them laughed. It was hard to picture, and, even harder for me to embrace.
Shortly thereafter the testimonials of mothers of boys started rolling in:
"Boys love their mommies forever!"
"Boys don't go through those horrible hormonal teenage years."
"There's so much less drama with boys."
"Boys are less expensive."
Blah, blah, blah...This was going to take some getting used to. I didn't have any ideas for names. I wasn't even sure how to make a cute nursery for a boy.
On December 11, 2001 I felt my baby boy move for the first time. It was right then that I fell in love with him and with the idea of my baby being a him. I knew right then and there that I was destined for this, this mother of boys business. My ex once overheard me telling my unborn son, "Someday you will fall in love with a girl and marry her but she will never love you as much as I do!" He told me that was creepy. Maybe a little.