Yeah ... I really did. And I really meant it. Just not quite the way it was interpreted...
See, he was trying to run outside, and in order to keep him corralled I suggested he stay inside and play with his balls ... his soccer balls.
Whatever it was ... the double entendre, the Freudian slip ... I laughed at myself like a teenage girl for much longer than was socially acceptable.
Why? Because ... boys are gross.
For the past 22 months I've been asked if I notice any differences between having boys and girls. And up until recently I really hadn't. Sure, I have to make sure I remember to angle Grady "down" so I don't have pish coming out the top of the diaper. But other than that? He sings the same songs the girls do (and did at that age). He plays with the same toys that they do (Barbies, high heeled shoes, horses and cars). He'll even sit with them and read books.
However, though he plays with THE same toys IN the same way, I have noticed in the past few months that his mannerisms are ALL boy.
It's as if he automatically knows that the second his diaper comes off for a bath or a diaper change, it's time to grab his nether regions like he's vying for a gold medal in the new Olympic sport of penis pulling and testicle tugging. He also knows that sleeves are solely for wiping noses and shirts are unlimited napkins. Sir Edmund Hillary? Eh ... he has nothing on this little climber, who amazingly scales every single thing in his path.
He throws. He hits. He screams. He runs around. He laughs. He does it all again. And again. And again. The boy is full of energy. More energy than I remember the girls having at that age. He keeps me busy. He keeps me very, very busy.
But the biggest noticeable difference between the girls and my little man?
He sure does love to play with balls.