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The difference between sons and daughters.

Ha! Answer- HUGE!

Yeah, DUH!  I figure since my son’s birthday is coming up and I wrote a blog post about my daughter’s birthday, I should give him the same credit. Although, he is the second child and sometimes you just forget to do stuff for the next kid, like baby books, home movies, that sort of thing. The five second rule comes in to play a whole lot more. You don’t sweat the little stuff like you obsessed over the first time.

So, my story begins- I was about 16 weeks pregnant with my second child. I didn’t know yet if it was a boy or a girl. I kinda wanted it to be a girl. My daughter was 2 1/2, we had a houseful of girl things, I figured, I know girls. I’m a girl,  I can do girls. What do I do with a boy? Will I want to play with him? When he gets older, how am I going to deal with penis questions? (let me tell you now- I am always dealing with penis and testicle questions.) What if he’s hyper, what if he likes guns and wants to be an Ultimate Fighting Champion when he grows up? What is he going to wear? Boys clothes sure as heck aren’t as cute as girl’s clothes.  These were the thoughts that were spinning around and around in my head. Very shallow, but reasonable thoughts.

A friend of mine gave me a children’s book called “Love You Forever” about a mom so devoted to her baby boy and all his phases of growing up. She would tuck him in each night, she would watch him sleep. And then when he was a grown up she climbed in through his window and watched him sleep. Which is really weird. Then when she was an old lady, he watched her sleep and carried her when she couldn’t walk. And it goes to show you how much a mama loves her boy and vice versa. I thought it was a little creepy with the whole sleep watching part and I thought, “I’m never going to be one of THOSE moms that clings to her son.”

<<SNORT>> Yeah right. Fast forward 9 years from then- no girl is going to be good enough for MY boy!! No girl. Okay, settle down. I’m kidding. But I totally get the mother/son connection. My boy is a mama’s boy for sure. And he IS my favorite. I mean, okay, not really!! He’s just, well, he’s easy to love. So I joke about him being my favorite.*

In those early months of pregnancy, I read in a magazine that if your pee was tinged green you were having a boy. If it’s yellow, you’re having a girl. Of course, I was always inspecting my pee color those early weeks. And it was, well, pee color. I guess, I mean, sort of guess it was kinda greenish. It depended on when I took my vitamin, how much water I had been drinking. It was really hard to determine. Also, I heard that if you crave meats you are having a boy. I totally craved sweet baked goods when I was pregnant with Emma. And strawberries. I ate strawberries all the time. With Owen’s pregnancy, I craved vodka. What does THAT tell you?? I craved lots of seafood. I wanted shrimp and prawns all the time. And steak. So yes, I guess I did crave meat.

We had names picked out for if it was a girl or if it was a boy. Nothing written in stone. We just had ideas. I sure as heck had more options if it was a girl. I loved all kinds of girl names. Not that James agreed with me on most of them. Like, Cher or Genevieve, or Violetta. Something awesome of course! I kind of wanted Charlotte or Olivia. I thought that would go well with Emma. He didn’t want any part of that. Too old fashioned he said. I wanted Margaret or Kathleen. Again, too old fashioned. GEEZE, what did he want- Beyonce?? So we kind of, sort of, chose Sarah. But for the boy, we were leaning towards Henry. Love the name Henry. Yes, it was old fashioned, but we both agreed on it. Then low and behold his Great Aunt one day said if it’s named Henry, she’s calling him Hank. Well, stop the presses, because I’m not having a kid going by the name of Hank! Hank is a name for an old man wearing a wife beater shirt guzzling a Pabst Blue Ribbon in his lawn chair. No offense, I just had this image of what a Hank looked like, and it was NOT my son. So then it just came to us- If it’s a boy, it needs to be Owen, which is James’ middle name and his grandfather’s name on his dad’s side. And you don’t get Hank out of Owen. So Owen it would be. Or Sarah. We weren’t sure yet.

We went to the ultrasound at 20 weeks and found out we had a healthy baby. Brain, heart, all the good stuff- looking fine. And yep, a penis. There it was. The fifth appendage. They told us we were having a boy and I thought, well, okey dokey, a boy it is. Hmm, not sure how I feel about it. I wasn’t disappointed. And I wasn’t over the moon. I was just sort of, content. Yeah, content. Now I WAS convinced I was peeing green.

So the day Owen was born was very different, of course, than the day Emma was born. All birth stories are unique. With Emma, I had the perfect epidural after excruciating labor. With Owen, I experienced labor the way it was intended.  It ebbed and flowed and I got through it. I got the epidural but had to start pushing before it actually kicked in. He was coming hard and fast down the pike. They kept telling me it should be working and I shouldn’t feel a thing. Well, tell that to my burning vagina! I felt everything! I would find out later that the epidural worked perfectly if I was having leg surgery on my right side. Thirty minutes after I pushed out the placenta, I couldn’t feel my whole right leg. Gee thanks Dr. Anesthesiologist! Asshat.

So, I was scared as hell about feeling everything since I felt nothing with Emma’s birth.  You bloody well can bet I wanted to be numb for this one too. Well, I think I pushed maybe three times and out he came. Apparently, I push babies out easily. Despite their head circumference being the size of a bowling ball. What does THAT say about my hoo ha? Wait, don’t answer that.

Because I was more concerned with myself and the BURNGING RING OF FIRE sensation that just ripped through me when Owen came out, that when they placed him on me all warm and slimy, I remember thinking, “I did it!”. I didn’t feel that incredible connection to the universe like when Emma was born. I wasn’t as panicked about his well-being since he wasn’t in any fetal distress like she had been. Maybe because I was thinking more practically after having done it before. He had a full head of hair when he came out.  He looked like a surfer – kinda tan and with bleach blond hair. He nursed immediately. What a boob guy. He wouldn’t let go. The hoo ha survived, and latching on happened like it should have. And then, I fell in love with the little peanut. More like the little ham hock. He was 8 pounds, 11 ounces and I swear 23 inches, but the nurse said 22, but I SAW the tape measure. She totally short-changed him. But whatever. I know.

He cried, but didn’t fuss. If he was hungry- he cried. But honestly, if you held him, he was happy. Emma fussed. Sorry dear- you were a cranky pants sometimes. Oh and the colic! He never had that. He slept better, cried less and was just kinda chill. Maybe he was a surfer? I do remember him surfing across my spleen sometimes, or my cervix. He used to karate chop straight down the birth canal those last few weeks he was gestating in the womb. Holy fallopian tubes he would kick the wind out of me- from the inside!

Owen is a very typical child. He whines, he pouts, he doesn’t always do as he’s told. But 9 out of 10 times, he’s really good. He is always thanking me for doing things for him, taking him places, feeding him. He’s the most grateful child I know. He’s a goody two-shoes like me. Totally keeps track of any swearing or yelling by any family member. He really hates yelling. He likes things quiet. He loves to snuggle. And he loves James Bond and Harry Potter and drinks cups of tea with me. Really? What more could a mom ask for?

I can totally trust him. Emma is the story knitter. She can knit a story into a sweater like nobody’s business. How many times when she was in preschool I had to clarify to the teachers what was going on in our family. Whether she had said her dad broke his leg, which he didn’t, but she wanted the pastor (she went to a Christian preschool at our church) to pray for him so she decided to make up a story. Or when her teacher asked me how Disneyland was, and I told her that we hadn’t been to Disneyland. And she said that Emma had told the class that her Grandpa drove the family down to Disneyland in his RV. Well, Grandpa doesn’t have an RV and we didn’t go to Disneyland at all that year. So you get the idea.

I can look Owen square in the eye and he will tell me exactly what happened. If he got in trouble at school (this has happened twice in his whole elementary career) he immediately came to me with the note from his teacher. Guilty. He hates guilt. So he faces it head on.

The difference with boys and girls is clearly attitude. Emma throws me attitude like a logger at a Highland games. Just pitches it up to fall hard on me, Owen doesn’t do that. You don’t have to walk on egg shells around him. Emma is Miss Moody. Happy and easy-going one minute, in tears and hating the world the next. Typical hormonal pre-teen FEMALE. (*If you’re reading this ever in the future Emma, I think you’re awesome and the best daughter ever. Don’t hate me.)

Well, I could brag on and on about my amazing children, but I will spare you. My point is, despite my feelings while I was pregnant and anticipating a boy, wondering how to love it, how it will love me- I can’t imagine it any other way.  Two girls would absolutely kill me! Oh dear heavens, the estrogen would put us over the edge!! At least with Emma as the first born.  She is so Alpha that I can’t imagine another female between her and I.  Owen balances our family beautifully.

He really is my golden boy.

I pop out some damn cute kids, huge head and all.

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Comments

  1. Erica Arehart says:

    Love this! I have 2 boys and a girl and that GIRL rocks my world. She makes EVERYTHING DIFFICULT. I have called her a psycho. Out loud. To her face. She is almost 5. My boys, especially my 7 year old are perfect. I laughed the entire time I read this!!

  2. Beth Baskett says:

    I didn’t have a girl, only a boy. And I didn’t actually birth him, so I didn’t have to deal with the ring of fire 🙂 Boys are just… simpler. I have a 3 yo niece who is already more complex than my 13 yo boy. Of course, this could just be our experience, and everyone else thinks the opposite. Who knows?

  3. How precious! And how absolutely funny a writer you are! I was laughing the whole way through!

    Warmest regards,
    Joy
    http://www.PardonMyPoppet.com

  4. Anastasia says:

    So sweet and he’s SO cute…

    Its funny, I only saw that one vlog you did about Samantha Brick, but now whenever I read your blogs I hear your voice in my head being all sarcastic. Do more vlogs too! 🙂

  5. Twins Happen says:

    Awww – – frugie, that was beautiful 🙂 I look forward to the day where my children have actual, true personalities. They are starting to come out, slowly but surely 🙂

  6. Precious, smiling faces. #voiceboks

  7. Wondeful post, In my home we have 6 wonderful different personalities, and I love them all!! thanks for sharing.

  8. I thought you were reading my mind there! This was me too when I was pregnant baby 2.

  9. shoes says:

    What a very sweet boy you have there! I ended up with two boys so we got to do the old hand me downs trick and saved tons of money. When I was pregnant with my second we sort of wanted a girl just so we could experience one of each but at the time I was watching my friends with little girls who were in the throes of princesses, attitudes, and drama. Our second son is very boy, leaping off anything tall, running and falling and forgetting to put his hands out to catch himself, but he is also our little drama prince and can throw a tantrum with the best of them.
    Great post. And seriously does your anesthesiologist have a drinking problem? The right leg, really??

  10. muddledmom says:

    I have a nine-year-old boy and a six-year-old girl. The differences are amazing and wonderful and hilarious. And I too didn’t know what I would do with a boy. But I have found that my son has taught me so much. And why can’t they go to their dads with the penis and testicle questions? Really. Sometimes I’m just not sure why they do what they do.

  11. SweetP says:

    LOL, I had the boy first and the girl second and the ring of fire with her! They are so opposite it’s amazing but my daughter is my treasure, my son is my challenge. Mind you, I’m dealing with 20 and 16. My daughter is following in my footsteps all the way (not a bad thing) my son is my soul mate but her is a constant challenge although for Mother’s Day this past weekend, he actually bought me flowers, a first! I appreciate both of them tremendously and I am constantly learning from them both. Wouldn’t have it any other way. Enjoy the journey!

  12. This was so beautifully written. I loved it! I just had our second boy (he’s 2 months old) and when I was pregnant I was sure we were having a girl this time. I kind of wanted a boy a little because we already had all of the boy stuff but I also really wanted a girl. When we found out it was a boy, I couldn’t really decide whether I was happy or sad about it….that is, until he came here. Boys are just fun and silly and such momma’s boys. I wouldn’t trade anything. They are perfect for me. I may end up having a girl one day, but my boys are AMAZING! Loved your post and really understood it!

    • Got your comment- just moderate them first for spam and stuff.
      Thanks so much for enjoying it! I love my daughter tremendously. But she is difficult and life is nicely balanced having a boy around.

  13. justanothertiredmommy says:

    I really loved this and could relate to it. My delivery with my first–my sweet boy–was from hell, and my daughters were easier–I always thought that it was because they weren’t my first, but now I think it is part of my theory that they all make us pay at one point or another…and usually MORE THAN ONCE! It’s funny–I am always more annoyed with my girls when they act like boys and I am always more annoyed with my boy when he acts like a girl (I don’t TELL them this!)–maybe I’M the problem! I honestly believe that they each have their own special place in my heart and my sweet boy–well, let’s just say that I can relate to your post! I am so afraid that I am going to be a crazy MIL…I understand now how it happens!

  14. ghfool says:

    That was fantastic! And I just can’t get enough of your “Hoo ha”.

    btw, going forward can I call the golden boy O’Henry?

  15. Jenn Drenn says:

    Oh, how I love this. I had the boy first, then then the girl. If it had been the other way around, there would be no boy. She’s so dang dramafied, it’s insane. What a beautiful posting about your son!!!

  16. Kat says:

    I have a 3.5 year old little boy, and HE is the biggest dramaqueen, sounds *just* like your girl, he will tell you tall tales about everything and whine and was extremely colicky, fussy and picky as a baby, and clingy etc. I wonder if he’ll grow out of it? He is so…short tempered and impatient, always has been. He is a love, he will cuddle and hug and all that good stuff, too, but his general attitude towards life is.. extreme attitude.

    I’m having a girl in a couple months, I wonder if she’ll be the same??

    • Frugie says:

      I wish I knew what makes their temperment. So strange how different they are. Enjoy your little girl, she’ll be totally different, I bet!