Thank Heaven for little…Boys!

As a small girl playing with dolls, usually Barbie and Ken, Barbie would always marry Ken. Actually Ken would marry a few different Barbie’s given the day, but that’s another story for another time.  Ken and Barbie would have this amazingly lavish wedding with lots of tulle and flowers. It was the ultimate 1980’s wedding – big hair and all.  After the wedding Barbie and Ken would have a baby; a little girl named Skipper.Even when I wasn’t playing with Barbie’s, every time I imagined a baby or played house with friends, it was always a little girl.  I always knew I was going to have a girl of my own, even as a little girl.  I would have a daughter that I would dress up like I did my Barbie’s.  I would spend all my time brushing her hair and putting hair bows in her hair.  As she got older we would talk about all types of things – from what happened in school, to the new boy she liked.  We would be like best friends.

As I grew older and got into my teenage years, I found that I related better with boys then girls. I found that girl friendships were so much more complicated, fragile, and drama ridden – all things I didn’t like.  Friendships with boys were so much simpler and straight forward.  There was no worries about boys getting upset about stealing the boy they were crushing over, even if we talked about me dating them and they were ok with it.  There was no worries about them talking badly about me to become more popular.  It was just simple.  We talked cars and sports.  We talked about all our issues at home with our parents.  We were able to share in fun activities without trying to outdo each other.  I was never a girly girl.  I wasn’t into fashion and make-up.  I didn’t care if I was popular or not.  Yes, I got the inevitable male friend who developed a crush, but for the most part I felt I could be myself around the boys -more so then around girls. Even through all that, I still knew I wanted to have a little girl.  It was something that I always fantasized about.  I wanted a little girl that I could relate to, even if my friendships with girls always ended disastrously.  Somehow, my little girl would be different.  We would understand each other on a level that nobody else in the world could understand.  I would get to talk to her about boys, I would be there for her when she got married and had children of her own.  There would be an insane bond between us.

Fastforward to two years ago when I peed on a little stick (for like the 4th time) and it said positive.  The day dreaming began again.  I again imagined the little girl in pigtails that would be playing in the playground, climbing trees, riding her bike around the block and doing all things that little girls do.  I imagined it, but yet I knew in my gut that the universe was not going to give me a little girl, because I wanted it too much, and I was right.  At 11 weeks pregnant I found out via the MaterniT-21 test that he was a boy.  The body scan at about 20 weeks confirmed, he was in fact a boy.  I was over the moon.  A lot more excited then I thought I would be considering how I had dreamed since I was a child that I would be having a little girl.  I was excited I was having a baby and a boy meant that I would be able to relate to him in ways that I never did with girls.

My Silly Baby is now 15 months and even though we’re not at the stage where we can “relate” to each other, we have a bond that I wouldn’t give up for anyone or anything in the world.  My little boy is fun spending endless days exploring his world and as happy as can be.  Even though he can’t yet say, “Mommy, I love you” he wakes up in the morning and gives me the biggest smile he can.  When I pick him up, he will bring his chubby little hand up to my cheek and caress it.  When I’m carrying him, he will place his little head in that little space in my neck that I swear was made just so he could snuggle up to me.  During story time before bed, he will grab my finger with his whole little hand as I read him his stories and nothing else in this world matters.  He doesn’t need to say that he loves me, because I know he does.  As much as I wanted a little girl, my little boy is a gift that I wouldn’t trade for the world.

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