Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Boys will be boys

For those of you who don't know, I am a girl's girl. I'm prissy. I don't like to be dirty or messy. I like pretty clothes. I like to do my hair and wear makeup. I don't (and have never) play sports. I don't like to climb trees. I don't really like to sweat either.

So when I found out that I was having a boy, I was genuinely terrified. I thought, "What am I supposed to do with a boy? I can't catch a ball. I don't like to run around. I don't like to get dirty. What am I going to do when my little boy brings me bugs or hugs me with muddy hands or tracks dirt through the house?"
Shortly after that internal dialogue (and with help from my therapist), I basically said, "Get over yourself, Allegra. You'll take it as it comes, and you'll make sure he's a well-rounded little boy. Anything you can't handle is when you call in the Daddy."
Flash forward to the past year of my life. In some ways, Allen is all boy. He's full of energy and loves to run. He loves cars and trucks. He likes blue and green (they're his favorite colors). But in other ways, he's more like me. He doesn't really like to be dirty. He doesn't climb on things or jump off of things. He loves books. He likes music. He's definitely not girly, but he hasn't really gotten out there and acted like a BOY ... until today.
My mom needed Brian to do some things for her, so Allen was at the shop with us. As you know, usually he's content to help us in the shop ... professional candle sniffer one day, sticker affixer another day. But today, he really wanted to be outside, and kept making a run for it.
I quickly gave in, and he ran around in the grass next door to the shop for awhile. He yelled to the UPS man and the other delivery guy. And he yelled to Miss L and Finley (a cute little Beagle)across the street.

Then B (his parents own the pizzeria across the street, where he works) lent Allen his soccer ball. And he had a blast throwing it around.

After falling on the ball a few times, he noticed the leaves. So he starting digging into them and throwing them over his head (sadly I was unable to capture this on camera). It was fantastic. And his hands and legs and face got dirty, and he was OK with it. Not only that, but he looked so happy.

Then Daddy came back, and he was even happier!

All in all, it was a great day for Allen. And Mommy is very proud of him for being all boy today (and she's proud of herself for encouraging him to do so. She even kicked the ball around with him).



PWNort64 said...

A post I can totally relate to (except the part about calling in "the Daddy"). My boy sounds very similar to Allen with the exception of his favorite colors being pink and purple, which I think he'll get over in time. Yeah for Mommy!!

KMag said...

I so wish someone had gotten a picture of you "kicking the ball around." I'm not sure I can do that anymore without falling flat on my toukis.

Yay you!


Leigh said...

I continue to amaze myself by sitting down with the Kiddo and "reading" every page of Sports Illustrated every time one comes in the mail. Considering that he's only 18 months old, I think I have a lifetime of testosterone-filled sports-watching ahead of me.