Are you a Boy Mom?

I don’t have daughters.  But I am a daughter and I have a sister and never once have I sat on my sister’s head to cut off all her air supply “just because”.  Not having girls obviously means I see things through a boy, pee everywhere, trucks thrown across the room, perspective.  I am sure parents of only girls will tell you that their little ones can cry, scream, and hit like the rest of ‘em.  But us mommas with only boys know that you will never understand the busyness, the aggressive nature, and the immaturity that comes with boys.  While I suppose there are always exceptions, I see girls who sit quietly doing puzzles, play with dolls (and really play, not just dismembering and killing them), have the vocabulary of a grown adult by 18 months, and are potty trained practically at birth.

My boys never sit quietly.  Ever.  Even watching TV they have their hands down their pants or they are doing ninja moves off the couch.  Both my boys remained mute or used caveman grunts well past age 2.  As for potty training?  Let’s just say that my boys could be spokesmen for Pampers and how much they love them.  I mean maybe if I went back to cloth diapers with the pin in your abdomen they would be more inclined to be trained.  Well at least I have a new idea to try.  I am prepared to finally have my youngest potty trained at an uncomfortably old age (the day preschool starts).

Girls and boys are different.  As a mom, teacher, and a human being with eyes, I believe this to be true.  Girls mature faster than boys in pretty much every way.  The immature nature of my boys is probably what makes things so different and why “boy moms” seem to have their own club.  Now I know my 4 year old won’t always cry when his jacket happens to be inside out and I know that eventually they will stop hurling themselves off my furniture.  But when I see girls the same ages as my boys, and I see how calm and gentle they are, I feel a little bit like I am raising the span of Satan.

Case in point, one of my friends posted a video of her two girls playing with Lego together.  There was no crying, no hitting, and they were, in fact, building something together.  I watched that video and then looked at my boys.  At that precise moment they were setting up a wrestling ring wearing only underwear and socks, and throwing themselves and all of our earthly possessions, into their new “fun pit”.  There was crying, there was hitting, and they were definitely not working together.  They were trying to kill each other.

I have also been told, and stop me if you have heard this before, that I will be happy to have boys when my kids are teenagers.  You know because girls can be bitches.  Girls also have the tendency to literally hate their mothers at some point in their life.  Boys don’t seem to carry grudges like that.  For this I am thankful, but I also know that my boys are not going to want to spend a day shopping and going for lunch with their mom when they are 20.  Once I get to the point where I want to start having lunch and shopping dates with someone other than my friends, I will be taking applications.  But seriously, I am already laying the groundwork with my boys to ensure that they call me 3 times a week when they move out and that they have to take care of me when I am elderly.  They can put me in a beautiful ocean side retirement villa, or move me in with their families, I’m not really picky.

The bottom line is men and boys are wired differently.  I see a sink full of dirty dishes that need to be washed, and my husband sees that place where the dishes go.  I see a fun pirate ship to play with and my boys see an object to hurl down the stairs.  Be prepared, new mom having yet another boy, your bathroom will always stink just a little bit.  Like pee that hasn’t quite found it’s way into the toilet bowl.  But you already know that because you’ve stepped in it.

I am okay with the fact that I may never have pretend tea parties or go to a princess ball.  Truthfully, I see myself as more of a “boy mom” anyways.  I am not girly, I wear minimal makeup and a rotation of black on black clothing, and would definitely not love the idea of having to do a little girls hair in the morning.  However, I suppose I have fond memories of being a little girl who loved playing with paper dolls (quietly, alone), had an impressive Barbie collection (again played with quietly, alone), and I even loved helping my mom clean the house.  Who wouldn’t want a little girl like that?  Instead I know my boys will be like my brother who would shave my Barbie’s heads and mutilate them and I don’t see my boys becoming my “cleaning assistant” anytime soon considering their complete disregard for taking off their shoes at the door.

I won’t lie; I was a tad disappointed that I never got my girl.  But those reasons are selfish.  My boys may be a handful at this particular stage of life, but I can’t imagine it any other way.  Plus you know what?  Farts are funny.