I was fifteen when I picked out the perfect girl name for my future daughter.
I grew up in a house of blond-headed, blue-eyed girls, and the idea I wouldn’t have a daughter didn’t even cross my mind. I couldn’t wait to pass down the copy of Little Women my grandmother gave me. I looked forward to buying sparkly shoes and lacy socks. My mom was my best friend, and I hoped to have a relationship like ours with my daughter.
Now I have a sweet and sensitive David, and a busy and boisterous James, with a Joel on the way who we can’t wait to meet — but no Anna Elizabeth. We have stacks of books on dinosaurs and super heroes, and tennis shoes with no sparkle and socks with grass stains.
But I’m learning to embrace my role as a BoyMom.
I’m counting my (messy, loud, busy) blessings.
If I had girls instead of a house full of boys:
- I wouldn’t know wrestling moves had specific names like figure four leg lock, back breaker, and iron claw.
- I could not have told you that Spider-Man’s enemies are Doctor Octopus and Green Goblin, but not Joker or The Penguin (they are Batman’s enemies).
- I wouldn’t be able to name every single train on the island of Sodor.
- I wouldn’t be so good at getting out stains.
- I never would have said, “Sure, just go behind that tree.”
- I might not know how painful it is to step on Lego pieces with bare feet.
Sure, I’ve missed out on hair bows, ruffle bloomers, princesses, and nail polish. But I don’t really think I’ve missed out at all. I know God gave me exactly the kids I would need, and the kids who would need me. I’m still learning to be the best boy mom I can be. And it sure is fun!
