BOYS & GIRLS
When my girls were little, they played with Barbies. They’d raid my closet, jewelry box & makeup to play dress up. But, not in the creepy, “Toddlers in Tiaras”, beauty contest kind of way. We watched sweet “videos” like “The Little Mermaid” & “Aladdin”.
When they had their friends over, they held tea parties. I’d make little peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, put in their favourite video & they danced around & sang like happy little idiots . I’d do their hair & let them play with my makeup. Who cared if they got lipstick over most of their face? That’s why God made face cream. I didn’t have to explain to their friends’ moms why I was returning their children looking like clowns. They knew exactly what had happened. Aubrie & Elyse came home plenty of times with blue eye shadow that was deposited in greater quantity on their foreheads than eyelids.
Enter The Boy, Dakota. When he was little, the girls drew him into their make believe world. They considered him their own walking, talking doll. That boy wore more makeup, bows, dresses, wigs & sequins than most 3 year old boys should ever have to endure. They’d take that cute little curl at the top of his head & attach some type of bow or barrette (complete with rhinestones) to hold it firmly in place. I still have a picture of him in a tutu, holding a wand. The girls & their friends were gathered around him, giddy with their masterpiece.
Then, The Boy grew up. And he has friends. Friends who are also boys. Remember all that fun, squishy girl stuff I spoke longingly about? Well, just throw that out the window. Boys are different. Really, really different. My entire mindset was to be changed. And not necessarily for the better.
The days of dressing up in frilly clothes have been replaced by dressing up as Darth Vader. Of course, Boy had to have the Darth Vader mask, which comes complete with a voice distorter & heavy breathing. Remember when that WASN’T a good thing – the heavy breathing, I mean?
The cute fairy wands are now light sabers. Boy tells his friends to bring theirs over, & the battle ensues. Unfortunately, most of the wars have been waged in my living room. The casualties, sadly, have been pieces of art, pictures & lamps. Thankfully, Matt & I planned for that. We only buy cheap stuff so that if it gets broken, it’s not so bad. I didn’t, however, plan for how much was to be broken at the hands of Boy & his friends! On the bright side, I get to change the look of my living room every six months or so.
The dulcet sounds of the Little Mermaid singing, “Wandering free, Wish I could be, Part of that world” have been replaced with the sound of swords clashing & voices yelling, “en guarde”. The only music that’s played comes from Rock Band. The songs are usually some grunge band that seems to be particularly irritated about one thing or another. What, I have no idea. I don’t understand a word they say. I’m told that the words are scrolled across the top of the screen. Problem is, they’re so small, I need binoculars to read them. That’s ok, as I somehow doubt I want to know what it is they’re lamenting, no, make that screaming, about.
Soft, stuffed teddy bears are now walking, talking robots. Robots that screech, “Intruder alert, intruder alert”. Night vision & spy gear are littered throughout our house. Boy even rigged the entrance to his room with some type of electric beam. Now, whenever I go in there, an alarm blares & the robots attack.
Barbies have been replaced with GI Joe & army men. His room is more often than not a war zone. He has army men & tanks stationed all over, readying for the imaginary war. Tanks with flashing lights & realistic battle sounds. Loud realistic battle sounds. Pillows are mountains, rugs are lakes, dressers are cliffs, & the army men are strategically placed all over them. I’m beginning to think Boy will end up being in the military. At least he could use his stealth battle plans to some type of use. Hopefully, not for evil.
Food lasts in my house about as long as it takes me to get it out of the grocery bags. I’m constantly begged to get the normal, kid “staples”. You know, Fritos, soda, cupcakes, & anything that’s sweet, salty, full of preservatives or fried. Stuff that makes me gain weight just being in its vicinity. I do wonder, though, if there’s some type of growth hormone in junk food. Boy & his friends are shooting up like fireworks.
Yes, there’s a difference between boys & girls; don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. And if you don’t believe me, have yourself one or three. But the differences are funny, baffling, heart wrenching, hilarious, & just about every adjective under the sun. I wouldn’t change one second of every minute with my kids.
Now, bring on the grand babies!
