The Y Chromosome Wins Again

One night last week, the family felt a little hungry after a veggie dinner from the garden and we decided to go out for apple cobbler and ice cream. The waitress, pointing at my mid-section, asked, "What are you having?"
Me: "It's a boy."
Waitress (with all the children listening): "I'm SOOOO sorry!"
Me: "We're excited!"
Waitress (incredulously): "Are you REALLY????"
Me: speechless
Waitress (after a pause): "Well, of course you are; it's a baby."
Me (after waitress leaves): "That was the rudest thing EVER!"
Waitress (the next time she comes to our table): "I feel like I owe you an apology. I mean, I would like to have any child--I only have a dog."
Me: "We like our boys."
What I wanted to say: "Of course--Look how handsome and sweet and funny they are, and they didn't even take offense to your thoughtless words. Girls shmirls!"

I will admit that after the gender-revealing ultrasound, I shed a few tears for my daughter, the one that will never be. But I've had 23 weeks to smile about what it means to be a mom to boys. And much of it centers around bodily functions.

I know that there are little boys out there that have been taught to aim well and lift up the toilet seat and clean up dribbles with a small wad of tissue. I, however, have not been able to achieve this with my sons, despite my best efforts. Hence, the repeated need to do a little clean up at the front of the toilet seat before I sit. But there are advantages to raising standing urinators, particularly on hikes and long road trips. No scrambling for that elusive potty, carefully balancing TP all over the seat to cover germs. We just find a well-placed tree and we're good to go. My boys have taken to heart the phrase, "The world is your toilet."


lizards and reptiles and bears, oh my


And furthermore, I now know that it's possible to fess up to a gaseous odor with no shame. The years of being surrounded by maleness are getting to me. In fact, I can personally--on occasion--burp with pride, despite my modest and proper nature. Even at the dinner table.


born knowing how to vroom and shoot and drive

Sons are sensitive. Not in the same way as girls. I mean in a sweet way when it comes to their moms. (Sometimes.) I do enjoy getting all the girly attention in the family. Christmas and Valentines Day bring boxes of carefully selected jewelry, with hearts and diamonds being the distinct themes of choice.


He's a poet . . .



. . . and he can plug his nose with his upper lip.


bros

One blessed advantage of sons over daughters is that boys enter puberty, on average, later than girls. This means that I get to have my little boys longer. I'll have man sons for years, so I'll take them little and hairless for as long as I can get.

still smooth-skinned (for a while anyway)


my men