Second time around
I’m stoked to have a second kid.
I’m hesitant to raise a boy.
I’m not a girly-girl by any means, but I love parenting a daughter. We talk and talk, and talk; about feelings, the weather, our favorite foods, our favorite books. She’s kind of the perfect mix: we can wear dresses AND stomp in the mud shouting “Free to be You and Me” at the top of our lungs because we are awesome. When I talked with my friend I secretly told her i wish I would have another girl, so I could have this awesome pack of strong ladies.
We are going to name our little guy Wyatt [this week, who knows what other names we will come up with...] Paige would like to name him Owl and secretly so would I, but Wyatt is lovely — like a strong soft spoken cowboy eh? And I know that I shouldn’t immediately awesome that my son will be this truck loving, spaz that gets his kicks from leaping off high places onto piles of couch cushions which WILL give me a heart attack. I should assume that maybe he will love to talk too? That he may love the color pink? I love my husband to death but he’s not a mans man – he won’t be out there fixing the roof but he can be my walking encyclopedia and can make beautiful art.
The little boys I meet and the parents of those little boys laugh at my wishes for a peaceful, crafty existence. They laugh as their sons bash trains together, climb up on top of teetering rocking horses and propel off while shrieking happily and I look on wearily. And this makes me nervous — I know how to parent a girl because hell, I am one. I can read flip the flap fairy books until my eyes are bleeding, but little boys intimidate me.
For those who raised a boy and girl? Did you notice differences?
Things are good right now
-The snow is melting [fuck yes]
-I got 4 new books in the mail to devour at night
-We have some fun Manhattan exploring planned this month
-My dog Logan hasn’t submissively peed on my floor/couch/bed in weeks
-Paige is practically potty trained. She lets me know she has to go, dumps her little bowl out into the big toliet, flushes, and comes in demanding a “gummi” for using the potty.
-I’ve been making some lovely new friends.
-I’ve expanded my collection of maternity mumu’s
I was TERRIFIED when I found out that Harry was going to be a boy. I am also not a girly-girl, but growing up it was me, my mom, my sisters, my (all girl) cousins, you get the idea. I was so hoping for another girl, but….I don’t know if it’s just Harry, or if it’s a mother-son thing, but I am totally smitten with him. He’s a total boy boy, into trucks and sports and loud things and tools and mud (except for the sports his father is totally not into any of those things), totally different from his pink twirly-girl sister, but I am head over heels for him. It’s all good once they’re here, but we overthink it until they arrive!
Amen to that! I over think everything – eggs or oatmeal for breakfast? The choice could keep me up from 2-4AM not kidding
the more i think i about you naming your son Wyatt, the more i like it…you know, for the record:)
Orson isn’t too boyish I don’t think but maybe that will change? I love having a boy. He is such a little lover and so curious about everything. I try to stay as gender neutral as possible because I hate the whole sports and trucks thing but I always let him know that he can do whatever he wants.
I think no matter what you will have an amazing boy that will be exactly what you want/need and he will love paige and paige will love him.
I’m still pretty new at this, but one difference I’ve noticed is that my daughter is cuddlier than my son was at the same age. But the biggest difference is that, while she loves me, she also loves my husband and my son (which I love). My son ONLY LOVED ME for about the first year and a half of his life! It was exhausting at times, and I felt bad for others, but there was a small part of me that loved that. I think I’m still his favorite, and always will be. Is it a mother/son thing? Maybe. As I’m about to start him in pre-school in the fall, one of my friends warned me that the only kids who cry for mama at school are the boys. The girls don’t give a shit–bye mom, see ya later. The boys pine for mama.