Monday, August 15, 2011

A boy? What do we do with a boy?

Let me preface this post with a bit of history. My mom had three boys. When we were little, she used to let our hair grow long and she put Sun-In hair lightener in our hair during the summer so that it’d be blond. I remember the day when we were in line at the grocery store when a nice lady said: “what cute little girls you have”. That was the last time we let our hair get that long. The point is, my mom wanted a daughter. She didn’t get one. My older brother had three boys, and my younger brother had a boy too. So she hasn’t yet gotten a grand-daughter. When we announced we were having a little one, I think pretty much everyone in the family wanted a girl. My wife and I certainly thought we did. Although it was still hard for me to believe I was actually going to be a father, I knew I wanted a daughter. A little girl I could watch over and protect.

I knew what little boys were like. I was one of them, after all. I couldn’t be a parent to one of them. Little boys are nuts. For example, Jack and I were just at the park a few minutes ago watching a bunch of crazy 3-7 year-old boys run around the splash fountain. Run, slip, cry, hit, kick, make pretend pee, fart, yell, pull down pants, cry, hit, kick, throw stuff at parents, pretend to poop, climb up pole, fall, bleed, and start it all over again.

It’s amazing males of our species make it through this life stage. Some of my most vivid memories of childhood involve my brother and I doing rather crazy things.

“That slide over there seems like a great way to get on top of the garage.”
“I know, let’s jump off of the garage and onto the trampoline so that we can dunk the basketball.”
“Yeah, that’s a great idea!”

“Did you hear they found a piece of a human heart back there in the woods?”
“Let’s go find it and poke it!”

“It’d be fun to chase the other kids around the house with this handful of sharp darts”

My wife felt similarly. Not so much terror about being on a first name basis with the folks at the front desk of the emergency room. She wanted a sweet little girl she could read Anne of Green Gables with (I never even heard of that book); dress in cute little dresses; grow into an adorable young woman.

At the 20 week ultrasound, we went in for the big view. We were both convinced we were having a girl. When the technician told us we were having a boy, we were happy…no question…he was healthy. Had all his fingers and toes and such. But, both of us had a twinge of regret. What do we do with a boy?

Well, after nearly a year, we both agree that we love having a boy! Sure, a girl would have been great too (and who knows what the future holds). This little boy is the light of our lives. His smile, his bright eyes, his great personality. But I know that just under the surface of this cherub-like little baby, his Y-Chromosome is brewing up some crazy stuff for him to get into. It’ll be a very interesting ride!

No comments:

Post a Comment