Little Boys.

You guys, my son thinks I’m the friggin’ best.  I know he’s only seven months old, but I can just tell.  I mean, a mother knows these things, right?  I swear I have never had a bigger fan in my entire life, or a better audience for my ridiculous antics and buffoonery.

Here’s my proof:

He thinks I’m the…

Best singer he’s ever heard.

My evidence is that every time I sing a pitchy version of Let it Go from Frozen, he giggles wildly and squeals at the top of his lungs for more.  And, like, not to brag, but when I stop singing, he cries.

Best dancer he’s ever seen.

He particularly loves it when I whip and nae nae, or when we reenact the final scene from Dirty Dancing.  P.S. I play the role of Johnny Castle, and he’s Baby.

Funniest girl he’s ever met.

I can make this kid belly laugh to his guts with my imitation of Peg from Peg Plus Cat saying, “We’ve got a reeeeeeally big problem!!!”, or with a fake English accent, asking him if he’d like “a spot ‘o tea.”

Best cook ever.

He’s especially impressed when I serve him lukewarm peas out of a plastic bowl.

You know, I could really get used to this, being my little boy’s best girl and everything, but the other day I got to thinking as we were curled up on the couch watching Curious George, will I always be his best girl?  Will he always think I’m the funniest girl he’s ever met, and the best singer, the best cook?  What happens when he discovers that I really can’t hit those high notes at the end of Let it Go?  Will he roll his eyes at me when I try to impress him with my dance moves in the car when he’s a teenager, because let’s face it, I’m probably going shimmy my shoulders, and put my hands in the air at red lights.  What happens when he discovers that I’m terrible at math, and that I can’t help him with his homework, because let’s face it, I’ve forgotten everything there is to know about math, and that I’m really only useful at helping him with two subjects, and those subjects would be English and Literature, but what if he doesn’t even need help with those subjects, because he takes after me, and he’s also good at them???

Oh, Lordy.

Okay, okay, okay…I know that I’m getting a little carried away, but I do wonder what will happen to my general psyche when I’m exposed, found out, and discovered for not really being the greatest at everything, and that I’m a human being with flaws like everybody else.

And I hope I can handle it when my son falls in love for the first time, or has his first elementary school crush.  I hope I can embrace it when he looks at someone else the way he looks at me, when he grins with his twinkly eyes and his whole face lights up, because I swear no matter how much time goes by, I’m always going to remember the way he looks at seven months old smiling the sweet little smile.

Is it weird that I already know what song I want to dance with him to at his wedding?  Because I do.  God Only Knows by The Beach Boys. 

Full disclosure, when I first found out I was having a boy, I cried.  I couldn’t believe that I cried.  I mean, what kind of a**hole was I?  I was having a healthy baby, and that should’ve been enough for me, but I cried.  At the time, I was secretly hoping for a girl.  As a woman I thought that I might know how to care for a girl better than I would a boy.  As my pregnancy went on, I embraced the fact that I was having a boy, and reminded myself after every successful doctors appointment of how thankful I was that my baby was thriving, but I’d be lying if I told you that daydreams of pretty pink dresses didn’t still occasionally pop into my head during the nine months.  Now that I have a son, and I’ve experienced being the mother of a little boy, I truly and honestly don’t care if I ever have a girl.  Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to have a daughter someday, I really would, but if I don’t, my life is complete with this little boy that I fondly call Monk.

There’s something very magical about being a mother to a son, and something so hopeful about it, too.  As a mom you get this amazing opportunity to shape this little boy into being a good man, a respectful gent, and the type of guy that you’d want to marry.

I’m sure it will break my heart someday when he comes to me and tells me that he’s going to get married.  And I’m sure I’ll cry my eyes out when we dance to God Only Knows by The Beach Boys.  And I’m even more sure that while I’m having a nervous breakdown and nearly hyperventilating on the dance floor, he’ll probably be thinking, “Oh geez, mom, really?”

And I’ll just be thinking…

Does anyone know CPR_

I seriously might need an ambulance, or a doctor.  Thank God I married one.  But you know, it’s not like I’ll be able to help it or anything.  He’s my little man.  He’s my boy, one of the greatest loves of my life.  No matter how old he gets, he’s my baby, and he will always always always be the best friggin’ thing I’ve ever done.

The end.

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Little Boys.

  1. LOVE this post! Even got all teary at one point (darn pregnancy hormones!). 🙂 Thank you for this. Like you, I secretly wanted a little girl, and I was kind of sad when I found out we were having a boy. But since that little nugget was born, I have absolutely loved being a mom to a little boy. So much so that I hoped our second would be a boy, too! That used to be my nightmare, and now look at me! These little men are the sweetest! They are A LOT of work, but the rewards are SO, SO great!

    Like

  2. You have so much to look forward to short stop – this is just the beginning of a love that will last a lifetime! 🙂

    Love and huge squishy hugs! 🙂

    Prenin.

    Like

  3. I couldn’t imagine being a mother to a girl after having my “Irish Triplets” (three boys in 2 1/2 years!) . All grown up now, ages 42, 43, and 44. I have granddaughters that I cherish and love buying for, but somehow the time I spend with my grandsons is easier, more familiar. There is a very special bond between a mother and a son, as you so beautifully stated.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s