Not until my little boy received a set of cars on his first birthday did it dawn on me that I was raising a son. I mean, I knew he was a boy but up until then he was really just a baby.
We parent baby girls and boys the same way.
We run to them when they cry,
We cuddle them,
We play peek-a-boo,
We rock them to sleep and
We love them the same way.
That set of cars was my first glimpse into the world of boys.
First set of cars
One day in particular, when my little guy was about two, he went over to the neighbour's yard and started playing with the little rocks surrounding her garden. His dad scolded him and said, "No, no buddy. Put those down". He did as he was told and quickly walked away. Later, when his dad was out of sight, he went back onto the neighbour's yard, picked up a rock and said, "Daddy, ha ha!"
Little. Bugger.
More recently, coming out of WalMart, I couldn't find the car. I asked him if he remembered where I had parked it and he replied "Yes. Between two yellow lines. I hope that helps, Mom."
Little. Bugger.
Today, my cereal-munching, juice-chugging, prank-pulling, joke-telling, heart-tugging, fun-loving boy turns 12.
He can be rough and tough.
He can be funny and witty and wild and crazy.
But more than all that,
He is sweet and soft and gentle.
He has a way of warming my heart like no other boy I've ever known.
Boy Child of Mine
I love watching him grow.
Happy birthday, boy child of mine.
