Thank Goodness for Boys

I’ve never been a mother to a little girl and it appears I never will be. And you know, I’m ok with that. Not that I think little girls are bad, I just think I’m more suited to be a mother to boys and here’s my list of why.

1. Growing up as a girl, myself, and teaching little girls, there seems to be less drama with boys. I can’t recall my brother ever causing my dad to wait up with his shotgun in hand when he was on a date.
2. Watching last week’s Today Show with One Direction performing only further solidified my happiness with being a mother to boys. I can only imagine what my parents thought when I would squeal at the sight of New Kids on the Block. My head hurts just remembering.
3. Sports, sports, and more sports…more specifically FOOTBALL. I can’t even begin to describe my excitement with the thoughts of Saturday and Sundays sitting in front of a television or at a stadium, with my boys all decked out in our jerseys as we cheer on our teams. Some women look forward to shopping with their daughters. I look forward to the trash talking (all harmless) while we yell at refs, eat our wings and pizza, and celebrate our victories.
4. Clothing is easier. Alright, alright…I know there are exceptions to this rule, but for the most part I don’t foresee my boys spending hours critiquing whether their shoes go with their hairstyle.
5. Finally…having recently shopped for a little girl, I find it to be a lot more fun to buy toys for boys and even to play with them. I’ll take a Transformer any day over a Barbie.

I’ve heard the whole “girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice,” while “boys are made of snakes and snails and puppy dog tails,” but I gotta say puppy dog tails are just precious.

I know the good Lord could still at some point give me a daughter, but right now I’m thankful He’s only given me boys. Don’t think this Mama could parent a little girl, at least not well.


Davey’s Songs

Davey is currently at the age where I should be expecting his vocabulary to increase, which it has, and for him to actually start carrying a tune. I’m not sure if the tune should be something he knows, like a sweet little nursery rhyme, or what I’m currently hearing from him.

It started last week while we were in NY to visit my in-laws. Davey has his own bedroom complete with a Lightning McQueen car bed, from the movie Cars. It even has its own little race track at the foot of the bed. Once he saw the bed, all we were heard from his mouth was, “Racing car bed.” How sweet, right? Well, that one little phrase turned into something more as when it became time for him to go to bed, whether that be a nap or night time, he started making his own little song. Every day we heard, “Racing car, racing car, oh my racing car bed.” Over and over and over. I’d loved it! I couldn’t help but chuckle each time he sang it. Of course, I wanted to stab out my eardrums when I would try to fall asleep at night and all I would hear is my son’s voice singing his little song. It was actually in my head at that point and not coming from him.

Well, a few days went by and he quickly started changing his tune. His next song became about his grandfather (my father-in-law) and my in-laws English Springer Spaniel named, Mya. Davey refers to his grandfather in NY as Guh Guh. Not sure where that came from, but whenever we Skype or Facetime, he always says “Guh Guh” when he sees his grandfather’s face. It’s cute and my father-in-law seems to love it.

Anyways, by Tuesday, his tunes transformed from being about his racing car bed, to being about Guh Guh, Mya, and their noses. Yep, that’s right…noses! What we heard moving forward was, “Oh, Guh Guh, Mya, noses, oh”. Those words went on and on and on and were even accompanied with a little dance complete with what looked like a shuffle of the feet and jazz fingers. Hmmm.

I thought it was just a one time thing, Davey’s tunes, especially since I hadn’t heard anymore from him since we came home. Maybe it was something in the water in NY? That was until last night when we sat at the kitchen table, my husband, Davey and me, and played a game of dominoes. We’re teaching Davey the need for sharing, for waiting, and for taking turns, something he’s going to need to know once Henry gets here. So, after he played his domino, we told Davey it was Daddy’s turn, then it was Mommy’s turn. Needless to say, he broke into song (and had he been on the floor, dance too) about taking turns. This one flowed a little something like this, “Oh, Daddy turn and Mama turn and then Davey turn, oh, oh, oh.” That’s right, there were three “ohs” at the end.

Davey won’t bother trying to follow along with a song that’s been around for ages. He’s not interested. Instead, he’s eager to create his own little songs based upon his every day experiences and I love it! What a creative little mind he has and although he doesn’t exactly carry the tune well, he’s putting for the effort and my husband and I get the greatest little chuckles from it.

Preschool Blues

Today I dropped off the paperwork and registration fee for Davey to start a Mother’s Morning Out program the first week of September. It’s something I’ve considered for quite some time especially with Henry on the way and truthfully I think Davey and I need the occasional break from each other. I researched, discussed it with my husband, and then contacted one of my girlfriends who sent her son to this same program. And it really didn’t take much coercion for me to decide that this is the place I wanted to send Davey or that I even wanted him to go.

Of course, it was almost a month ago when my husband and I made the decision to send Davey. At that point, September seemed so far away and I was almost conflicted about the whole thing. Actually, I’m still conflicted. Last month, I was almost desperate and at my wit’s end. I needed an outlet for Davey. I needed some place he could go so that I could have some time to myself. As a matter of fact, I would have sent him that very day, but now I’m becoming sad and a little nervous about the whole thing.

I’m sad because this is yet another sign that my baby is growing up and he’ll no longer be my baby. I’m sad because I almost feel like I’m a failure for needing to send him to a Mother’s Morning Out program. I’m sad because while he may be my Achilles heel at times, he won’t be with me all day. And then there’s the nervous end of the spectrum.

What if he doesn’t like it? What if he’s a little minion? What if he displays his stubborn, independence with his teachers and they want him to leave? What if he doesn’t really learn anything? What if he sees it as abandonment? I don’t really think he’ll feel abandoned, but I still worry about him. Supposedly, he’s a completely different child when he’s not around me. I should be thankful for that. I guess I’d much rather have him displaying his Terrible Twos around me as opposed to anyone else.

We go next week to Open House where I’ll be able to meet the teachers and introduce Davey. This is a big step. This is huge. This is the next milestone in our relationship as mother and son. I can’t help but wonder if he’ll be like me when my parents took me to Open House before I started kindergarten. Apparently, I wanted to stay and my words to my mother were, “You never let me do anything.” Or will he be like my brother, who screamed bloody murder and latched on to my mother’s leg? I don’t know how my husband was with his first day of kindergarten or preschool, but I can only hope it was a piece of cake.

On the plus side, this will give Davey social interaction WITHOUT me, which is a good thing. I’ve had him involved in a lot of things since I became a stay at home mom, but I’ve always been with him on each adventure. And then, I’ll have at least one day a week for three months to myself, that is before Henry arrives, and then I won’t be alone again for a while.

So, this weekend I guess we’ll be off shopping for a backpack and lunch box for Davey and I’ll officially be one of those moms who’s up and packing lunches and getting together school supplies (the school supplies are a little ways off still). It’s exciting and scary all rolled into one. Yikes! Here’s hoping Davey and I both survive!

O’ Henry!

For those of you unaware at this point, we are indeed having a boy! My husband and I couldn’t be more thrilled, and I know we would have said the same thing if this one were a girl instead.

I wrote earlier about my fears of having a girl and I’m glad to know that those fears will not be realized now, although I’m sure I’ll come up with new ones along the way for Henry. Most of those fears are the same ones I had for Davey, so I guess you could say “been there, done that” and so I’m a bit calmer this time around. Oh, and before I go any further, perhaps I should explain Henry’s name.

I’m not a fan of modern, new age, contemporary or hip names. I’m not interested in trying to come up with a name just to be different or just to outdo a friend. So, Henry is a name that I’ve loved for a really long time. It’s a traditional name, somewhat romantic, and even strong. I did look up the name, much like I did with Davey’s, to find out its origins and apparently its German and means “home ruler”. Hmmm. I didn’t exactly think to look it up before naming him. I don’t know if I want this child to already think he’s the ruler of the home. I’ll keep this little tidbit to myself for a while.

We chose Bruce for his middle name and that comes from my maiden name. Davey shares a name not only with his dad and grandfather, but his middle name, Brian, comes from my younger brother. We gave Davey a strong family name and wanted to do the same with Henry, so Henry Bruce. Almost sounds like a ruler, doesn’t it?

Henry is healthy. His heart is strong with four solid chambers. His kidneys, stomach, and bladder look great. His spine is perfect. Since I am seeing the same doctor as I did for Davey, I asked for my chart to be pulled up so that I could compare my two boys. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that, but I am curious as to Henry’s progress in comparison to Davey. Henry is already measuring bigger than Davey did at this point, which concerns me seeing as how Davey wasn’t exactly a small baby anyways. Henry is also measuring approximately four days ahead. So, maybe he’ll get here early?

What I was really intrigued with is the fact that they are able to measure the brain matter of babies in the womb. It’s absolutely amazing! And what we found out is that Henry has a lot more brain matter than Davey did. What does that mean? Could be absolutely nothing, or maybe my Henry will be a genius! He’ll be a genius in his own right much like his older brother Davey.

But as I sat there and endured the ultrasound, I couldn’t help but reflect for a moment and marvel at the gift I’ve been given. Much like I did the first time I heard his and Davey’s heartbeats, I cried. I cried at both of their initial heartbeats and I found myself crying last week as well while watching Henry move around.

Being a mother is magical. It’s awe inspiring. It’s loving. It’s overwhelming. It’s the greatest experience ever. I’m amazed at how many people don’t really realize that until their baby has joined the world and they’re able to hold that baby in their arms. I’m amazed at how many people see an ultrasound as nothing more than a blob of cells. I saw my beautiful baby boy and my heart just swelled. Could I ever possible put into words my true feelings? Highly unlikely.

I am thankful everyday for this opportunity, for this adventure, and for the wonderful man I’ll share it with for the rest of my life. Now we’re just on a countdown for the next phase of our lives as parents. T-minus four months and counting until Henry sees the world!

The Trip That Almost Wasn’t

Traveling is a lot more tedious and even strategic now that my husband and I are parents. Long gone are the days of worrying about just the two of us. So what if we only have 30 minutes to make our connecting flight! We can just make a run for it…those were the words we use to share with each other. Not so much these days.

We’re very fortunate to have a son that seems to be flexible and willing to travel. He’s a frequent flyer already, having logged his 18th plane ride this weekend. He was flying, and rather superbly I must say, at 2&1/2 months. That doesn’t mean traveling is as seamless as it once was, when it was only my husband and me.

Gone are the days of listening to my iPod, reading a book, or even picking up a celebrity magazine to pass the time while waiting to board a flight. If we have a delayed flight that could cause us to miss our connecting flight, then we have to seriously reconsider our travel, much like we did this past weekend when we were told that we wouldn’t make our flight in Baltimore. In the olden days of just husband and wife travel, we would have just dealt with adding an additional flight through Chicago into our travel, even if that meant arriving at our final destination after midnight. Not the case anymore.

So, we decided to delay our travel by a day, reroute out of our local airport, and take the over $150 in travel vouchers. Of course that meant keeping our little rebel, aka Davey, cooped up in a car for another 2 hours as we drove back home. You can only imagine the amount of energy he had once we finally walked back into our house. It was like holding a wind up toy, winding it to its max, and letting it go.

The next morning we rose before the crack of dawn, 4:30 to be exact, to try our travel again. Take 2! And what we thought would be seamless wasn’t so much the case. Nothing is more excruciating for the parens of a toddler, than watching the seconds click by on the clock as you continue to sit on the Tarmac. Seconds become minutes and minutes quickly add up to a cranky toddler who can’t understand why the plane is not his own personal playground.

And what’s worse is that after the minutes pass by and you’re pushed out from the gate, you hear the pilot state that the necessary little generator needed to actually start the engines is tanked. Yes, that would be correct. We were then pulled back into the gate to fix our issue. My husband and I looked at our watch and realized that we may actually miss our connecting flight this time. What are the odds?

We developed our plan of blocking, quick exiting, and picking up anything we checked at the gate. And when we landed, I was quickly thankful for the fact that I am a runner, that I am strong, and that I’ve managed to stay in shape during this pregnancy because while lugging the extra weight from the baby in my belly, and a 35 pound toddler, I managed to still navigate the airport, stay ahead of my husband, and make it to our connecting flight. Whew!

Needless to say, I think I’m already developing an ulcer as I worry about how we’ll manage this once the second baby arrives.