Residing In The Land Of Testosterone

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As I navigate the waters through this first trimester, my mind keeps wandering into uncharted territory. I find myself contemplating how life would  be if I was carrying a daughter. Not only how My life would change, in all of its familear dynamics and well-beaten paths, but what exactly we  as a family have to offer a girl. 

Yes. I’m a girl. I realize that. But trust me, some days I feel like I am having to valiantly fight to proclaim that fact. In a house with 8 males, it can be hard at times to hold on to femininity. My delicate, pretty fairy knick knacks get smashed in the midst of wrestling tournaments. We watch ten billion sports-superhero-gory-action movies to my one sappy-sweet romance. My pretty tye dye dresses get stained with mud at the creek. My flowers outside get run over by scooters. My decorative, fancy towels are used to stop a bloody nose. Its pretty much a losing battle I’m fighting here. 

But I don’t give up. Because hell and high water I am DETERMINED to raise boys who have empathy and a little softness to their sharp edges. Boys who know how to work a washing machine and cook a mean lasagna. Boys who understand when a woman cries that she needs a hug and who are willing to sit through a sappy romance film as long as they find a girl cool enough to be willing to sit through an action film with them. I am stubbornly holding firm to the plan that these boys SHALL be gentelmen. Someday. 

And they are. When it counts. Like last summer when we went on vacation. the hotel we stayed at had a continental breakfast. I got my sons all set and served and then got back in line to get my waffles. I came back to find my boys awkwardly attempting to figure out how to eat their food while standing in a corner. A group of ladies were seated at our table. One of my sons told me “Those ladies needed a seat mom. There weren’t any more empty chairs.” I could have cried with pride. 

When Nana pulls up with bags in her backseat they all run out to carry stuff in for her. 

When Mommy has a headache they offer to make me a cup of coffee. 

When someone smaller wants to go down the slide at the park they step aside, and offer that child help. 

They have a whole lot of kindness and empathy. 

I remind myself of this in the moments of utter chaos. 

Because chaos DOES exist. 

In our home, we yell a lot. We argue. We debate. We get stubborn. We laugh loudly. Obnoxiously loudly. At the dinner table. We mess up beds with tickle fights and pillow fights  and wrestling matches. Our yard has more bikes and balls than flowers. The kitchen is always cluttered. Always. (Hey, you try cooking 3 meals a day plus snacks for 9 people every day and see how shiny spotless YOUR kitchen will be.) You might show up one day and think that its pretty loud and pretty chaotic. And you’d be right. But you might not stick around long enough to catch the contrasting moments. Those exist too. 

I might get frustrated at times, feeling like this is all an uphill battle that I can never possibly win. But the fact is, I couldn’t IMAGINE my life being any other way. Give me a house filled with noise and dirt and love any day over perfectly molded children with no personality. 

And if this baby is girl? Well, she will fit right in. No daughter of mine would  be anything less than the perfect blend of feminine and rough-and-tumble tomboy. 🙂 

Plus, she’s have 6 big brothers to protect her and defend her. 

Can’t beat that. 🙂  

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