Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Love Multiplied.

Every now and then I read something that makes me nod my head in agreement, laugh along with the author, or in the case of this blog http://confessionsofaminivanlover.blogspot.com/ cry. And I'm not talking about a little tear rolling down my cheek combined with a little sniffle. I'm talking about full on sobbing, heaving for breaths, snot rolling out of my nose. Oh, P.S., I was sitting in my doctor's office waiting room while reading this.

I can remember so vividly my last day at home with just the Tatiman. We had big plans to spend the day with my sweet boy, take him to his favorite restaurant for lunch, and then drop him off at his grandparents house while we headed to the hospital. However, the Finny Bo didn't cooperate with that plan, and we ended up needed to drop the Tatiman off much earlier that day. I sobbed most of the way to the hospital because I didn't get my last lunch date with my sweet Tatiman. I spent hundreds of dollars on a "Big Brother" gift bag for the Tatiman to get when he came to the hospital to meet his new sibling. I was excited to meet our newest addition, but also filled with dread--yes, dread--that perhaps my greed to have more babies would ruin our family. Yes, "greed" and "ruin". Hormones obviously help me think clearly.

I don't think you can understand a mother's love until you become one. There is no way to describe it, but it is more powerful than any other emotion. I didn't think I could love anyone more than I loved my sweet Tatiman--until I met the Finny Bo Binny. In an instant, I realized that not only could I love him just as much--my love for the Tatiman could grow even more. Being a mom has taught me that it is ok to have different kinds of love.

I love my Tatiman with a sense of awe. He made me a mother. I got to experience so many firsts with him--first flutters in my belly, first time hearing his heartbeat, first time meeting the person I grew, first 1st birthday extravaganza...and even though I will repeat many of those experiences with his siblings, nothing will compare to the very first time.

I love my Finny Bo Binny with a fierce kind of love. The moment I laid eyes on him, I felt this intense need to protect him from the world, from others' expectations. And that was before reflux reared its ugly head. My Finny Bo Binny has made me a better mother. He has taught me patience, and to appreciate small changes, and to really, really, cherish the good times. He was the only one who could teach me these lessons, and I will forever be grateful to him.

We currently have Baby #3 on the way. This pregnancy is not filled with any dread. I don't feel greedy, just extra blessed. And I'm certainly not worried about ruining my family--I'm just so excited to watch our love multiply.

Oh, P.S., out of all the gifts that the Tatiman recieved on the day he met his baby brother...the Finny Bo is the only one he showed any interest in. This go 'round, the Big Brothers will get "Big Brother" T shirts and special lunch in the hospital cafeteria!!

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Boys Will Be Boys

I've read a bunch of articles lately (courtesy of facebook, my source for news) about raising 'genderless' children, preschools that refer to all the children as 'friends' instead of boys and girls, and specific ways we should talk to little girls. I found myself getting increasingly annoyed with these articles, because I think that ignoring differences in gender is just about as bad as pigeon-holing a person because of their gender. I think it is OK to tell a little girl she looks pretty, just as long as you also tell her that math is awesome, and she can play football if she wants to. There is nothing wrong with exposing boys to lots of sports, as long as you also expose them to painting, and dolls, and cooking.

At not-quite 3 years old, the Tatiman has some very definite views on gender-roles. He currently has a boy baby in his tummy, because “only boys can grow boys.” And when he grows up to be a daddy, he must grow a beard. Makes perfect sense.

The Tatiman has had a 'Pincess' phase, and Finny Bo Binny happily pushes around a little pink shopping cart. The Tatiman loves Tinkerbell and princess stories, just as much as he loves Storm Troopers and Legos. I don't think of these as “girl” toys or “boy” toys. I think of them as 'toys', and by introducing my boys to a wide range of toys and imaginative play, I hope they will flock to whatever it is that they truly find interesting.

So, I thought those articles had no bearing on our lives. Until I got slapped in the face by a Happy Meal toy. We picked up a Happy Meal on our way out of town. The person at the counter didn't ask me if it was for a boy or a girl, and I didn't think to tell them. When I opened the box, I pulled out a Barbie head with long, flowing, blonde hair, and a pink comb. For some reason, I thought the Tatiman would be disappointed. The 'boy' toy would have been a Pokemon character (not that he knows who Pokemon is...but for some reason I thought he would like that better). Immediately, I said “Oh, this isn't a cool toy.” He asked me why...and I caught myself. I tried to rephrase and retract my statement as I handed him the toy. He thought it was SO cool. “It has hair just like when I have long hair just like Rapunzel has long hair!” Touche. I guess I need to pay a little bit more attention to what I say, and how it may play into my boys' senses of self, and thoughts on their place in the world.

I like to think of myself as a progressive mom. Although we have chosen a more traditional lifestyle with an at-home mom, and a working dad—I like to think it is because of the feminist movement that I was free to make this choice. I like to think that one day the Tatiman and Finny Bo Binny will have the same freedom of choice—and many more. To marry whomever they love, to have children that look just like them, or come from a world away. To stay home, or work outside the home, or do some combination that works for their families. To play sports, or dance ballet. To be scientists or fashion designers. I hope that my boys follow their dreams, whatever they may be. But, barring major surgery, they will always be my boys. Rough and tumble, sweet and sensitive, gentle, and stinky, and strong, and emotional...I love these little guys.