I'm a boy mom

Boy mom.

I hear this title used a lot. It’s not a title I ever thought I’d have. I always imagined myself having two girls and then having a baby boy. You know, when I’d play M*A*S*H in school and plan out my life with a mansion, a Ferrari (just like the one in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off) and my two girls and one boy.

I’ve been writing this post in my head for so long and I’ve just been afraid to put it all down. But I do want to talk about it.

When I first got pregnant with Hudson, I was convinced I was having a baby girl. I only browsed the girl aisles in stores and was looking at bows and sweet shoes. I would talk with my mom for an hour on the phone every day and imagine my life someday having the same conversations with my daughter.

And then we found out that we were having a baby boy. My first thought, if I’m being honest, was, “I don’t know anything about little boys. What do they like?”

But I figured it out. I figured out that he is mine and he is a perfect little person who has crazy wild moments and super sweet tender moments. After a day of letting it set in that I was not having a girl, I finally understood that the gender just did not matter at all. I mean, duh. This should be obvious, right?

With Hayes, I just always knew that he was going to be a boy. It was just a feeling I had. I knew that Hudson was going to have a brother and they would (hopefully) become best buddies. Hayes is so different than Hudson was because he, too, is his own little person. But I wanted him to be a boy. I knew that if another little boy was anything like Hudson, it would just be the best thing in the world.

I was talking with a friend the other day. She’s a boy mom, too. And we discussed the part of being a boy mom that is “hard.” It’s the pressure from other people. And there’s the “loss” and mourning of that future mother/daughter relationship when I’m 50 and I’m an empty-nester.

Because I’m in the social media world a lot, I get to eavesdrop on conversations. I have seen so many sweet friends announce their pregnancies and then announce the sex of their baby. And, I honestly don’t think I’m making this up, I see a lot of people say, “oh! I hope it’s a girl!” And that really hurts this boy mom’s feelings. Why would someone else hope that the pregnant gal would be having a girl? Why wouldn’t someone want a boy? What happened to just wanting a healthy baby?

And what about these statements from a pregnant celebrity/girl mom?

When I got pregnant with Hayes, I felt this strange, unspoken pressure/hope/rooting from other people for him to be a girl. A lot of people said, “I know this is a girl” and when I did announce that he was a boy, people even said, “don’t worry, baby number three will be a girl.”

My friends aren’t saying this to be rude. And there may always be a place in my heart that I have reserved for a daughter. But if I have four boys someday, I will be happy. And maybe I will even be spoiled by them someday?

I know that if I don’t ever have a daughter, my life will still be complete and wonderful and full of happiness.

I read this article and felt like someone finally got my thoughts out there.

I adore my family and I adore my boys. The sweetness mixed with the hilarity can’t be matched and that has nothing to do with them being boys. It’s just because of who they are and who they’re growing up to become.

I’ve said before that I want what my own mom and I have with a daughter someday. And I may always want that if I don’t have a daughter. And if I never get to use my girl name that’s on reserve, I’ll just buy a fish and give it the name!

Kidding.

Maybe.

I often feel the need to shout from the rooftops about how wonderful boys are. I know that prom planning, wedding planning and grandbaby planning won’t be as much fun without a daughter to keep me in the loop and gab with on the phone for hours, but believe me. I am counting my blessings. My precious guys are everything I have prayed for my whole life and never knew it.

Tonight, we were playing hide and seek in the house with my mom and Hudson. My wild boy was having the absolute best time. The smile on his face as he ran through the house just made my heart explode. And later in the evening, when he had calmed down some, he was sitting in my lap and we were singing songs. He accidentally hit me in the face and I pretended to cry. (I know, that’s kind of mean.) But he immediately said, “What’s the matter, Mommy? I’m sorry, Mommy.” Gah. My heart.

Are there any other boy moms who have felt this way? Has anyone ever looked at you and laughed because you have all boys? (If not, consider yourself lucky) We can even discuss the annoying boy clothes that mostly look like teenage boy clothes or a costume. What’s with all the writing on everything?

I was talking to my friend, Molly, the other day and I have decided that if there is a baby number three, I’d really like to not find out the sex before he or she is born. It’s truly the last real surprise! I think it would be so much fun.

Thanks for letting me get this off my chest.

that's a big piece of fruit.

I memorized these verses in the first grade. I’ve never forgotten them. But I also haven’t actually done my best to live them.

Last year, I did Beth Moore’s Living Beyond Yourself study with a group of great girls and was really convicted by this entire study that focused on these two verses in Galatians. That big “p” word in orange really stands out the most.

I’ve sung songs like “have patience, have patience, don’t be in such a hurry” and even a great old song by Guns ‘n Roses that says “all we need is just a little patience.” Just kidding. Kind of. I do love that song.

I tell Hudson on a daily basis to, “be patient. I’m getting to it.”

But what about me? This is that piece of fruit that I struggle with so much. I lose my patience. I don’t like to wait. I want things done and I hustle around to get them done. And then I usually mess something up in the process because I’m moving too quickly. Or in one particular case when I was rushing to a work event and was about to run out of gas… When I got out of the car to pump the gas, I literally fell out of my car and tore a hole in the knee of my work pants and bloodied up my hands.

Just slow down!

And my patience with my loved ones. It’s shameful. I’m actually pretty good about staying patient with the boys, but I lose my patience with TC. We’re different. He doesn’t rush around like I do. And I’m sure my attitude makes him want to slow down even more.

There are times, though, when Hayes is screaming and Hudson is saying, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy…” over and over and over again. You get the picture. I truly have to breathe deeply in order to not lose my patience with him.

This weekend, TC was out of town for a friend’s wedding and I had the boys by myself. We had church on Sunday morning and I was trying so hard to be prepared and organized with how I’d get both of them, both of their diaper bags (because they’re in separate rooms and need separate bags), my purse and my Bible inside. It was hot, I was setting up the stroller outside and I just had to breathe. A couple of friends stopped to help me.

That evening, we had a special event at church and I was trying to feed Hayes a bottle and get some ice cream to Hudson. Our amazing children’s minister came to my rescue. She offered to walk to the ice cream social with me to get Hudson some ice cream while I finished feeding Hayes. Words cannot even describe how much her small act meant to me and how much it calmed me.

I can’t stand the feeling of being flustered and overwhelmed. Especially when your children are with you and you are genuinely worried about having enough hands to round them up on your own to keep them safe. I could have just left and gone home. Hudson wouldn’t have gotten his ice cream. We would have missed out on the fellowship. But it would have been easier and more “controlled” to just get in the car. But I didn’t want to give up and our wonderful minister came to my rescue. She doesn’t just minister to the children, she (and her whole staff) are always ministering to the moms. And probably the dads, too.

We were asked in Sunday school a few weeks ago to write down our greatest failure. I couldn’t think of a specific instance that didn’t involve failing an exam, but my lack of my patience is what came to mind. I need to be more focused every day on asking God to help me be patient with those I love and be patient with myself.

I know that we all have our own breaking points and we all have a piece of “fruit” that hangs over us as the one the needs the most attention. What is yours?

now that I'm a mommy…

I say things like, “Because I said so” and “go to your room.”
I find myself counting to three and taking deep breaths to avoid confrontation with family members.
I know how to change a diaper in random places and can finish by the time Hudson counts to “ourteen.”

I know the value of observing nap time even when your toddler isn’t actually sleeping.
I always know where the wooden spoon is… just in case.
I know that disciplining my child really does hurt me more than it hurts them.

I don’t judge other mommies when their kids are crying in public. Kids get tired and have an off day. Most of the time the mommy can’t help it.
I definitely don’t judge other mommies with screaming babies on airplanes. It makes me grateful that mine aren’t screaming, but I’ve had the screaming baby before.
I still judge mommies who let their kids run around a restaurant and don’t make them sit in the high chair. I can’t help it.

I blog because I like it and it’s a fun hobby.
I also blog because it helps me buy cute clothes for my kids. And sometimes fun things for myself!
I see most of our money go into retirement and college savings. And another big chunk pays for all different types of insurance.

I realize how lucky I am to be responsible for two precious people.
I sometimes miss the carefree days when I could be as wild and free as my 2-year-old.
I am lucky to get a shower.

I have a commitment to only attempt to leave the house once a day to save sanity!
I have chosen to be a stay-at-home-mom and “staying home” is exactly what we do.
I sometimes wonder how in the world I got here. I am a mommy?!

I have to remind myself to have dance parties in the living room at the end of the day to unwind. But after we do it, we’re so happy!
I listen to Disney tunes in the car and know every word to “Jimmy Crack Corn.” So does Hudson.
My kids’ health and happiness is my long term goal. I force myself to look at the big picture. This is why I’m okay with a little bit of crying in the night.

I’ve lost some of my sense of humor because I get tired and stressed. My husband and my funny kids remind me to laugh and stop taking life so seriously.
I am confident that I can fight a bear for a little while.
The fear of being thrown up or pooped on is gone. I can survive that.
I am afraid of no diapers and having poop or pee on my floor! Can I survive that?

I get dirty outside and know how to get stains out of white jeans!
I play the way a little boy likes to play with trucks and animals and monsters.

I know that there is no love like the one I have for these two little guys

the night before…

Our lives are going to change tomorrow. There’s no way around it. We’re checking into the hospital at 5:30 tomorrow morning and the induction begins at 6:30. I have no idea how quickly things will progress or how long they expect it to take. It could be a long day or a short day. I hope to be able to keep everyone informed via Twitter (if you don’t already follow me, just click on the Twitter button on the right sidebar) and do a couple of blog posts as the day moves along.

More than anything, we’re praying for a safe delivery for Baby Boy and for me. I’m praying that Todd will be calm and comfortable and that any anxiety he is experiencing will melt away. I’m praying for both sets of grandparents that they will be the rocks we need them to be and the perfect examples of unconditional love for our precious son. I’m praying that our son will arrive perfectly and healthy and that he will grow up to love Jesus. We pray that he will have great relationships with our parents and our friends and that he will constantly be surrounded by love.

This is probably the most sentimental pregnancy post I’ve written, right?

I’m sitting here trying to come up with an idea in my mind of what exactly is about to happen, but I honestly have no idea. I know a general rundown of tomorrow, but I don’t know what the pain will feel like. I don’t know how the epidural will feel. I don’t know much. I don’t know if this boy will be too big for me to push out and if I’ll end up with a c-section. But while I don’t know the answers, I don’t care. I can’t tell you what’s about to happen, but I can tell you what it feels like to look back.

When I got married a year ago I got really emotional because I felt like I really had to grow up. There was a huge mix of happiness and sadness that came with that. Today, as I sit and think about my life up to this point, a few things come to mind:

  • What did my parents feel like the day they drove to the hospital to have me? Were they scared? Excited?
  • Our little house in Baton Rouge. I spent so many great years there. My dad taught me to ride a bike there. Santa Claus brought us our dachshund puppy there. Singing songs with my mom.
  • The day my brother was born. I was a jealous older sister, but I can’t imagine my life without my perfect sibling– the person who will be there with me to the end.
  • The day I graduated from high school and moved back to Louisiana by myself. I was so excited, but still so sad to leave my family.
  • The day I graduated from college and the summer I spent backpacking through Europe with one of my besties. I can’t imagine what my parents felt like sending me over there by myself for so long with just a backpack and a train ticket.
  • The day I graduated from graduate school and started my first real job. I was supposed to be “grown up” then, but I totally wasn’t.
  • The day I met Todd. I knew immediately that I was meeting my husband the father of my future children and now here we are… (excuse me, I’m crying while I type this…)
  • I’m thinking now about our parents and how grateful I am to them for all they’ve given us and taught us about love. I hope with all of heart that we can make the impact on this child that they’ve made on us.
  • And finally, just as my Dad (Poppie) started praying on the day I was born for my future husband, I’m praying for another family. Another family somewhere who will raise a young woman and she will become Baby Boy’s wife and the mother of his children.

I’m sorry to have gotten so sentimental, but I know that I will have to really grow up tomorrow. I will be completely responsible for another life (with Todd’s amazing help, of course) and I don’t want these nostalgic feelings to disappear because of stress and busy-ness.

I appreciate all of you so much. My real life friends, my family, my fantastic blog friends (that I can’t even imagine not knowing now), and anyone who just stops by to check in. Thank you for cheering us on. I’ll keep you all posted!

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