Alright, I’m going to be honest here: When I was expecting, I was really expecting a baby girl. In my mind. When the Oscar scan showed that the baby was sporting a penis between his legs, I was in shock for about a day before I embraced the idea of becoming a mother to a boy.
I know, I know, this smacks of arrogance. Especially since the kiddo was such a miraculous gift after so many rounds of fertility treatments.
On hindsight, I didn’t need to be so nervous about parenting a boy. I mean, I grew up with both male and female cousins, and was scaling trees and letterboxes like a monkey with the boys. I knew how to do it, I just needed to gain some confidence.
And having been a mum to a little man for the past 19 months, I have to say that it’s been such a wild, crazy ride!
For starters, the kid is hardly still. He is always up and running, always up to something. The only time when he is quiet and calm is when he is sleeping, when he is reading and when I am singing to him. Otherwise, he can be found scaling the sofa, chasing after a cat, pushing his little cart around, banging on doors or pulling apart the contents of a drawer.
And he is so full of energy! He loves to walk/run around to explore the space that he is in and he even lets us know when it is time to PUT HIM DOWN, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, AND LET HIM RUN. And the stairs, oh my, don’t even get me started. We are going UP! UP! and then DOWN! and then UP! and DOWN! and UP! NO, UP!
Usually, we end up needing an additional weekend to recover from the weekend. I mean, you should see him when he was attending The Little Gym. He is the child who DOES NOT SIT during group activities, and is happiest exploring every nook and cranny every single minute.
Who needs to go on a diet when you are chasing after a little boy?