I have always resonated with and heartily enjoyed little boys’ stereotypical raucous whooping and hollering and muddying and “you did what!?”-ing. I knew that having boys would come naturally to me, and I was blessed with two wonderful manly beings, and a third little boy just over a week ago. Because we had two little boys that embodied all of the stereotypes and MORE (ohhhh man, don’t get me started!), I was somewhat surprised about a few things when my daughter came into our lives. Genuinely flabbergasted.
I was surprised at how genuinely beautiful she is. And how often I think about her beauty.
Being progressive in my thinking, I am a staunch believer that a girl is more than her looks. I want my daughter to be known for her intelligence, wit, creative problem solving, leadership skills, and bravery. So why is it that when I’m looking at her across the breakfast table my thoughts turn toward how the sunlight is gleaming in her slightly askance piggy-tails and how her eyes twinkle with mischief? How the dimple in her elbow is perfectly placed?
I was surprised by my daughter’s unique personality.
She was our third child. We already had our tender child and our energetic child. I thought she would fall in one of those two camps. Nope. She’s fiercely independent and needs alone time. No snuggles. Just alone time.
I was surprised by my daughter’s opinions.
She wants to wear dresses. This is genuinely Not. In. My. Vocabulary. “Dress” was in her second tier of words learned. Before her brothers’ names.
Another example: Her nickname has always been “The Silly Goose.” It fits perfectly. A few days ago, I said, “Hey, silly goose, want to go play?” She looked at me with a petulant scowl and said: “No. Pretty toose, Mama. Pretty toose.”
I got the message.
She has definite opinions.
I was surprised by the bits of me I see in her.
I do see bits of my nature in her, and that surprised me. By virtue of her being female, I think that I find more of my traits in her than I would if she were another boy in the family. She will often push the line and doesn’t care at all if she’s inconveniencing the entire family with her drama. Let’s just say, she didn’t get that from her extroverted, people-loving daddy. She’s also….demanding. Ahem. At the same time, she just needs alone time. With her books. Without interaction. (Are you sensing a theme, here?) That’s part of my nature, too. I so get that.
Our silly goose….excuse me, pretty goose has changed our lives completely. For the better. She is fierce, and she is tender. She is every Bob Dylan song and Sam Cooke melody mixed up into one tiny body.
So this “boy mom” is embracing it. Maybe I won’t know how to bond over the girly things she definitely has a preference for. Parting her hair is, and likely always will be, a mystery to me. But I love the challenge, because I love my daughter.
