Boy Crazy

If I were to be completely, totally, brutally honest with you, I would tell you that I was a little sad to find out Eli wasn't a girl. Then I was probably doubly sad to find out Carson wasn't a girl. You know, because of the Excell DNA. They had proven to only be capable of producing boys, which left me understandably concerned I'd never get that treasured mother/daughter relationship.

I accepted my fate as the boys came. Along with all the parts of having a boy that I thought I hated -- the dirt. The potty jokes (yes, already). The cars. The innate ability to turn everything into a gun. The noise. The sports.

I got it all with Eli. Our stereotypical little boy. Parts of me longed for the cutesy outfits, the pigtails and the Barbies that I saw the moms of girls enjoying. But then I'd remember the conversation I had with my mom the first week of Eli's life when she said, "Look. Aren't you glad you have a precious little boy?"

I remember thinking, "Yes! How could I have wanted anything else?!? He is perfect and adorable and I know he is supposed to be a member of our family."

I had the same feeling as soon as Carson was born. I knew he was the perfect fit for our family.

Today I sat in church and unloaded car after car for Eli to play with in Sacrament Meeting. When we got home I may or may not have made a potty joke. Later we went outside and got filthy in chalk dust, laughing all the while. We came in and wrestled followed by Eli's favorite game of driving cars all over me. It was perfect.

Then I realized all the things I thought I'd hate about having boys are actually all the things I completely love about Eli. I love his sense of adventure -- the dirt. I love his intrigue in how everything works -- the cars.  I love his friendliness -- the noise. I love his creativity -- turning everything into a weapon. I love his cleverness - the potty jokes. I love his ability to turn anything into a game -- the sports.

Boys are pretty great.

But what I love the absolute most are the moments people rarely talk about with boys. The moments when they cradle a baby doll and gently wrap it again and again in different blankets to tuck it into bed at night then softly whisper "Goodnight" and kiss it on the head. The moments they wander over to you and say, "My love you, Mom" with a grateful smile. The moments they cuddle up next to you without saying a word.

You expect those moments with a girl. Or at least, as a girl-less parent, I assume you would. Which is what makes it all the more sweet when your wild, rambunctious, jumping-off-the-walls boy shows moments of sweetness, tenderness, compassion and love.

Then you realize being the mother of a boy is about the greatest thing ever. Because when you see that you can teach your boy gentleness and love, you know you're doing something right.

Today I'm especially grateful for my boys. I'm embarrassed I ever thought I wanted it a different way. It's true, I'll probably continue to make jokes about being cursed to a life without glitter, flowers, dresses and hair bows, but you should know that I'm up for the challenge of raising a few kind-hearted males. No matter how many potty jokes I have to make to get there.