Beauty Queen to BoyMom
I remember very vividly walking through the Pamida parking lot near my hometown, talking to my mom in the way only a 5 year old girl can, “When I grow up and I’m a mom I’m only going to have girls.” My mom (also the mother of two little boys) smiled and said “little boys are really nice too you know.” But I was certain I would have two or three little girls just like me; in love with sparkles and the color pink, attending dance classes and girl scout meetings, searching the aisles for the newest Barbie and someday maybe even competing in pageants like I did.
Fast forward twenty some years to the birth of my husband and my first child, a healthy, red headed, nearly 9lb BOY.
|Cooper Day 1|
|Parker Day 1|
Jump ahead another two years to when we would meet our second child, a healthy, red headed, nearly 9lb BOY. Are you seeing a pattern here...? Another three years later we found ourselves in the delivery room where my husband would once again look over at me to announce the gender of our third child.
A healthy, not red headed, nearly 9lb BOY. BOY. Apparently my reaction wasn’t necessarily of disappointment when I heard the words, “It’s a boy!” but more of “Oh my gosh another BOY!”
|Drew Day 1|
As little boy number three is approaching his second birthday, much more quickly than I’d like, I get many questions about whether or not we will “try for a girl”. I often laugh and play along with this inevitable question by asking what they thought I was doing the first three times?! Of course I thought I was meant to be the mother of a little girl and if I’m being honest, I always hoped while in those three delivery rooms that one of the announcements from my husband would have been “It’s a girl!” But as I look over from my kitchen counter and see those two handsome red heads, one with crazy hockey hair, the other with a faux-hawk and seven new stitches above his right ear, and my last “baby” in his fuzzy jammies, I have full confidence when I say I was wrong all those years ago. Having been given the gift of being a “BoyMom” and the opportunity to give the world three strong, compassionate and thoughtful men, I can now see that I really actually hit the jackpot.
Years ago when I ended my years of competing in pageants, wearing heels and layers of sequins, I carefully packed up each sash and crown, every gown and earring imagining that they would be loved by my mini-me one day. I pictured myself painting tiny finger nails pink and pouring imaginary cups of tea. Not once did I think I’d be rink side tying hockey laces and figuring out which pad goes where and what breezers are. I never imagined playing floor hockey in our basement night after night and ENJOYING it! And the smell- I never, ever imagined the smell.
I think as mothers we often have the best laid plans. We get up early and look at the day’s events. We plan out our schedules and feel good about what’s to come. Then out of nowhere we find ourselves at urgent care with a sick kiddo or getting stitches or running to Target to get Science project supplies we completely forgot to pick up…aka weren’t privy to knowledge of upcoming project due to the homework being wadded up at the bottom of a backpack, hidden by Pokemom cards. This was not our plan! According to our original, very well thought-out plan, we should have been at home making dinner and heading out the door for practice, followed by three completely chaos free tubbies, books and bedtime. Ha!
It turns out sometimes our plans are well intended and what we want at the moment but then other times you are at urgent care, getting the stitches and end up sharing an ice cream with your middle child, the one who often doesn’t get enough attention. And you get to hear him retell the series of events that lead to said stitches. You see how proud he is at his bravery that day at the hospital. You are in awe of how your chubby faced baby boy has now turned into a very clever and funny big boy who you are sitting having a conversation with. During that moment you see that you really shouldn’t be anywhere else. That the plans you had were good ideas, but sometimes you don’t really know what you want until you have it.
I still get to paint tiny fingernails, they just happen to be green and blue rather than pink and there are plenty of tea parties! The company may look a little different, Ninja Turtles and Captain America; the décor is a bit more “colorful” nerf guns and lego men and the dessert portion is a bit rougher, think WWE. But if I’m being honest, if my five year old self could see me now, she’d probably look up at my mom and say,”I think you’re probably right, little boys are nice too.”