Growing up, boys bewildered me. I found them to be hard to put a finger on. I grew up with two of my godbrothers. On walks home, there was always a side adventure, walks through the mud instead of simply on the sidewalk and I could never understand why passing gas amused them so. Boys at school were no more understandable than the two godbrothers I hung around everyday at home. Boys at school liked to make farting sounds under their arms and lay down on the ground eyeing whose skirts they could peek up.
Early on, I decided that I never wanted to be the mother of boys. Too complicated. Too dirty. Give me a sweet little girl anytime. When I got married, a little girl came with the package and I loved browsing through girl section buying clothes for my stepdaughter. Cute little white sweaters stitched with flowers. Dreamy little dresses, tiny capris and sandals to match. I dreamed of bringing home a tiny, little baby girl wrapped in pink. Then I got the word that our first baby was boy. My first thought: what in the world am I going to do with a little boy.
Then he came.
And I fell head over heels in love with him.
A second baby in my belly.
Another boy.
And I fell even more in love with another boy.
And now I wonder how I could have not wanted boys.
I see little boys in the store. Running past our door down the street. And I just want to stop them and give them a hug. Kiss their cheeks. Relish in their boyness. I really love little boys. Sometimes when I'm out without my little ones and I see little boys, I just stop and look--enjoying every little thing about them.
I love their rough and tumble ways. How dirt is drawn to them like magnets. How they can make a toy of out literally anything. How play always involves loud noises and wrestling. How they can get food in their hair and up their nose. Their ability to make holes in the knees of pants and wear out new shoes in one week flat.
I used to look at little girls in church and see them sitting so quietly. Wondering why my little ones just cannot sit still. They are wired differently--and I love them because of that too.
Soon these little guys will become teenagers and men. Husbands and fathers. And it's so true: "A boy is the only thing God can use to make a man." May I always marvel at the mystery of boys and my miraculous love for them.
