Thursday, April 18, 2013

The thing about boys...

   I have one child, currently. Just my perfect little boy. I can't really say if this describes girls, but I know this description is accurate for my little boy.
   I've talked to moms in a pregnancy forum that so desperately want girls and are terrified of having little boys. I have no idea how this is possible. My little boy is in-freaking-credible. I've heard women describing boys as rambunctious, inattentive, loud, gross, more difficult to teach and discipline, and basically described as being a creature of great difficulty with little foreseeable reward for people that do not have one of their own. As the proudest mother of a little boy, I would like to give a completely honest representation of what it is REALLY like.
   My son is precocious, rambunctious, noisy, and random. Yes. It's true. Little boys are all of those things. But it's more than that. He's passionate in the most innocent way. He really loves with every bit of his great big heart. It doesn't matter if he's pouring that love into a picture he draws for me, proudly proclaiming, "I drew a big doggy!" He could be pouring that love into playing cowboys with the dog, or saving a princess, or just being with Brandon and I, snuggled up on the couch. Everything he does, he does because he adores it, and he's proud of everything he chooses to do. Some days I'm busy, and I forget how much he cares and tries to make me proud of him, and I don't acknowledge him with my full attention, and it hurts him, but he doesn't get mad or throw a fit or cry. He just gets very quite and walks away until I realize that I made him sad, and then he shows me the picture he drew or a new "cool trick" he practiced just for me. I love that about him. I love how freely he loves and how unconditional and forgiving he is.
   His noise is such beautiful noise. He plays his guitar, bangs on pot drums, sings songs, makes sounds effects to the games he plays, tells great big stories, and asks a million questions. Before he was born, I relished the quiet. Now I miss his noise when he's gone. It makes me smile. Even the sound of his breathing when he sleeps makes me happy. I'm not going to lie, there are days when I'm stressed and overwhelmed that I just want ten minutes of silence, but when I have it, I realize the empty space in my head that is normally occupied by his happy noise. It's not like he's a walking junior high garage metal band that practices 24/7. His noise is the noise of a happy toddler figuring out his universe and finding joy in everything.
   He's so full of energy. He runs and jumps and ninja fights. He's full of life. He's not ill-behaved. I know I can take him to the store and trust him to stay near me, keep his voice down, stay out of other shoppers' way, and not pull things off the shelves. I can trust him to know the difference between how it's acceptable to behave at the book exchange versus the park. He's brilliantly smart, so while yes, he IS a rambunctious handful sometimes, I love that I can take him to the park and let him play until he's so exhausted he can't stand anymore. He wants us to be proud of him, so it was easy to explain appropriate behavior. Sometimes he forgets and takes off down a store aisle, but a quick reminder and he's back to being my sweet, well-behaved baby, staying near the cart and walking. It might be that I have a pretty easy toddler, but he's so easy to redirect and discipline. He just wants to make us happy, get a high-five and a hug that squeezes the air out of him.
   He can be pretty gross. He's often sticky. He likes to try to eat thinks like apples in ketchup. He eats candy he finds in the crannies of his car seat. He jumps in puddles of mud. He giggles when he farts. He's a toddler. And he's a boy. And his mother is a tom-boy. And his father is equally gross. He loves bath time, brushing his teeth, and is really particular about not wearing clothes that get stuff on them. That's good enough for me. He's uninhibited and plays rough, gets dirty, and laughs off bumps and scrapes. At the end of the day he smells nice and wants a cuddle and a kiss.

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