Being a Mom is not an easy job. I know, I'm probably preaching to a choir of my own people. What really takes my breathe away is the manner in which my kids teach me. Change me. It goes both ways of course. But the things I teach my kids, pales in comparison to what they teach me. Sure numbers and letters and how to use the toilet are very important; but so is patience, humility and unconditional love. Just to name a few.
I was a Mom of a girl. I got what I wanted the first time around and loved every minute of it. Shopping for all things pink, dresses, hair bows and little shoes. I had it made. I was a Mom of a girl for 3 years before my son came. I can openly admit today, that the tears I cried on that ultrasound table were those of sorrow. My 'motherly intuition' was wrong. It was a boy, not a girl. That cherished and coveted family dynamic I had dreamed of was gone.
I always wanted a little sister. Confidant, built in best friend. Someone who would be there. Though I wasn't technically an only child, I grew up that way. It was lonely. I had friends, but they came and went. I was jealous of the friends who had siblings, someone who would always be there in the end. Friends are not always the same. They are fickle creatures sometimes. Since I couldn't have that dynamic growing up, I was determined to have it with my children. It didn't work out that way.
I went about most of my pregnancy this way. Slightly less excited than I should be. There is also the whole, second baby syndrome. I felt like people were less excited because it was our second and ALSO because he was a boy. Naming him was hard. I had a girl's name picked out by the time we found out the gender. The middle name was easy. I was going to give him my cousin's name. Twelve days before he was born I lost my Grandpa. Grieving the loss of a loved one while on the cusp of new life is both draining and paradoxical. In the end, I named him for my Grandfather, as I knew no one else ever would.
A scary labor and delivery made me grateful for a healthy baby regardless. Today I can happily say, I have adapted. This is thanks to them, my mini miracles. I can throw a wicked tea party, do elaborate braids and then turn around and poke ants and jump in muddy puddles. I wouldn't change it for the world either. I know I've avoided catty fights and drama. Tattling about clothes, makeup and boys.
The equally amazing thing is what my kids do for one another. They move around each other like two parts of a whole. One is always looking for the other. They always bypass me and greet each other first when separated. She knows all the names of the trains her brother loves, and asked me for a Thomas dress, so she can wear it with him when we go see Thomas the train next month. On the other side, he can don a pair of play shoes, purse and hair bow and chow down at a tea party like a pro.
My husband I think, is unnerved by this. I'm not. Someday he'll be a hot commodity with the girls, because he knows what they like, and will be more likely to play with them than other boys who don't have sisters. He's learning to care for and love a girl, which will do him well in the world. It always starts with his Mom and sister. How does my Hubby think he got so awesome? Surrounded by women of course!
That's just a small slice, of what my kids teach my every day, and what they teach each other. And today, I am so happy to be a Mom of both. Because as much as Moms of boys tell you, just HOW special the love a little boy has for his Mama is; you never quite know until you're there. And let me tell you, it's magical.