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.
When my doctor told me that baby #2 was also a boy I had to laugh in spite of myself. Okay then. Frankly, I was relieved. Surprised, but relieved. I thought, 'How lucky these two little guys are to have each other. Brothers.' The idea made me swell with pride.
My boys are polar opposites. My little guy wants nothing more than to be just like his big brother. He does everything he can to emmulate him, much to my 9 year old's dismay. I try to tell him that immitation really is the sincerest form of flattery, but he won't buy it. "He drives me crazy!!!" Is what my first born says on daily basis. Get used to it. It's his job. I speak from experience.
My five year old son is very pestiferous. (Somebody learned a new word today!) In other words, he knows how to bring the mischief. He's quite good at it in fact. He has this look, and it is a dead give away that either he has done something wrong or he's planning on it. I will have my hands full with him. My mother waxes poetic about karma. I suppose there's some sort of sweet justice in it, at least for her. I tell my baby all the time, every day....several times a day, that it is a very good thing that he's cute. But, he already knows it. He works it with me. I pity the poor girls that he will come across in his future.
My oldest son is passive aggressive. He is my laid back king of the couch, and he is as sweet as they come. He has always been my hugger, up until about 3-4 months ago. He has started to give me the side arm hug and I HATE it!!! I hate it because I know that he is growing up and that before too long he isn't going to want too much to do with me. We have been buddies for the past nine years. I know it's nature and all that but I wish there was some way I could hang on to it a little bit longer. I adore my little boy. He is sweet and confident and very funny! I can be in a horrific mood and his little laugh brings me back to the surface every time. It is so true what my parents told me, time passes too quickly when you're a mother.
They do not know this but every night after I know that they are asleep I tip toe into my boys' room and kiss them each and smell their heads. I know. That last part is a little weird. But there is something about it. I love to smell their heads. It's the oddest combination of sweat and outdoors and oatmeal (?). Yes, that's so weird, but that is the best way for me to describe it. It's a little slice of heaven for me.
My babies drive me crazy, as I do them. They fight nonstop and they love eachother fiercely. I can't get enough of them. When they're not home I will walk into their room and I think the same thing every time, "What is that smell?" I can never pin point it. And I can't make it go away. There's no one culprit. It's just the smell of boy. And I wouldn't know what to do without it.
Just like every other mom out there I am in complete awe of my children. I am so grateful that they are boys. And, they are 1000% boy. They sometimes stink, they are usually dirty, and there really aren't too many "cute" clothes out there for them. Well, they wouldn't be caught dead in what I consider cute. Seeing as our last names aren't something like Wellington and we don't live in the Hamptons then I guess I can't expect them to wear white button down shirts with seersucker blazers, Nantucket red Bermuda shorts and white nubuck oxfords. A mom can dream.
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