The Joy of Boys

In the past, I’ve spent a lot of time bemoaning the fates for sending me a boy. Boys are difficult. They don’t sit still. They’re hard to potty train. They like overly complicated toys that even my husband can’t figure out. They’re demanding, sometimes disgusting, and often dangerous.

But I swear, there is nothing cuter than a little boy.

You hear people talk about “boys and their mothers,” and until Caveman, I really didn’t know what they were talking about. As the oldest of four girls, it was obvious to me that boys were completely unnecessary, and that girls and their mothers are the “close” ones. Boys just come in and out of the house, demanding to be fed and stinking up the bathroom, right?

Well, yes, but still. As mothers, we fall in love with our boys in a way that is just as strong as, but completely different than, the way we fall in love with our daughters. With a daughter, it’s easy to project yourself onto her. At least in my case, she’s practically a little clone of me, and I work hard every day to let her be her own person. For whatever reason, it’s easier not to do this with boys, so you really get to relax and let them be who they are. Somewhere in that easy acceptance is the joy of boys.

Boys are enthusiastic. I have never seen anyone throw themselves into something with quite the same enthusiasm as Caveman and whatever it is he’s doing at any given moment. His play is complex and multi-layered, with characters from different worlds who suddenly morph into other characters, a wide range of emotions, and villains who first rescue only to zap you a few seconds later. It’s fascinating to watch, but impossible to understand.

Boys are funny. O.K., girls are funny too, but when boys say things, they are just so SURE that they speak the truth, which makes their misinterpretations of the world around them even more comical. And they say it with such serious looks on their faces. How could you not love them?

Maybe the sweetest thing, though, is that once in a while, they manage to stop climbing the walls and zapping aliens and come over and actually give you a hug, or a kiss, or say, “I love you, Mommy.” Because those moments are such a contrast to the usual tornado of activity that is a little boy, they are even more precious.

That, my friends, is the joy of boys. May you get more hugs and fewer tornadoes over the holidays!


About Sarah

Sarah is obviously in love with chaos, as she has actively sought it since her daughter "Princess" was born in 2006. A cross-country move when Princess was four months old landed her back in the Silicon Valley, where her computer geek husband, Hubby 1.0, could dwell with his kind. In 2007, she decided to go to graduate school, which she’s completing as slowly as possible. When her son, "Caveman," arrived in the fall of 2008, life just got more entertaining. An aspiring librarian, Sarah is often found at story time bribing Caveman to pay attention with granola bars and goldfish. She's also on a quest to find a haircut that requires absolutely no styling and still looks good on those days when a shower just doesn't happen. In her spare time, she picks up toys, does laundry, cooks, checks facebook obsessively, submits photos to "$*%# my Kids Ruined," and organizes play dates with a great group of moms who keep her sane.

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