A Mom of Three Boys

I feel the need to share this with my blog readers (all 9 of you~ ha!). It's something that I've been kicking around in my brain over the past couple of months, trying to figure out why I feel the way I do about this, why I'm overly sensitive about the subject, and what kind of mom I want to be as result. So here goes.

God knew (WAY before I did) that I would someday be the mom to three little boys. Growing up I thought I would have a boy, and then two little girls. There was a reason for that thinking~ I wanted a big brother so badly growing up, but also loved having my two sisters, so this seemed like the best of both worlds. And I guess I thought I had some kind of control over the future~ really Jac? Not sure when I'm gonna surrender my control-freak ways...just know that I'm aware of how I am, and God and I are working on it. Daily. Thank goodness He's not finished with me yet. :)

So, when over 8 years ago (hard to believe) we found out that the first little punkin I was carrying around in my tummy was indeed a boy, I smugly thought, "Yep, just as I thought it would be," and went about preparing to be a mom of a little boy. And it was love at first sight when my first H entered the world. I had zero experience in the world of boys, but felt no fear about this new adventure (besides the normal new baby fears~ what if I drop him? what if I break him? what if he's crying and I can't fix it? etc.), only wonder and awe at the fact that I got to raise this little guy into a big man. That God would trust me (and Brian, of course) with this huge task. I was ready.

Then, three years later, we found out that the second little punkin I was carrying around in my tummy was ALSO a boy. "What?" I remember thinking. "This wasn't how I planned it!" Honestly, I wasn't disappointed about the news, just incredibly thankful for a baby (we had miscarried a few months before conceiving him, and that changed my perspective on LOTS of things), but confused just the same. A mom of two boys? I would certainly have my hands full.

Once again, when my second H entered the world, it was love at first sight. And this time around I was a more relaxed mommy, wasn't as concerned about following every detail of my parenting books, and just went with my instincts, which I must say are pretty good. I was made to be a mom, that's one thing I know for sure (the only thing about myself I am really ever sure about). My H2 brought in a whole different side of "Boydom." Where H1 was content to sit and watch Blue's Clues, sit and color with me, and very eager to please his mommy (typical first born stuff), H2 had a different agenda. He was full speed ahead, had zero interest in coloring or watching tv, and happily destroyed H1's neatly lined up Hot Wheels, his block tower, whatever. He embraced his role as little brother with all kinds of seriousness. He was also incredibly sweet and very snuggly (I think there were times, and still are, that he would crawl right back inside me if he were given the option). And all of that made me smile...it was then that I started to see that there wasn't a cookie cutter mold for a boy, and a different one for a girl. They are all different...my two boys were like night and day. Sure, there are typical boy characteristics, and typical girl characteristics...but I know lots of boys and girls that don't fit into those cookie cutter descriptions either.

So then, after another miscarriage, and deciding that maybe God was trying to tell us our family was complete with the four of us...we found out we were expecting #3. And (do you see where this is going?) when I found out that this third little punkin I was carrying around in my tummy was also a BOY, that time I was upset. For about an hour. And I felt incredibly selfish and ungrateful for feeling that way. But it really wasn't about him being another boy, it was about knowing I would never know what it was like to have a girl. I'm surprised I'm even confessing that here, because before today only Brian and my mom knew I felt that way. There was a part of me that wanted to do all the girly stuff~ the bows, the cute shoes, all the fun outfits, princess stuff, tea parties, etc. etc. But that didn't last very long, because I trusted that this third little guy was exactly what our family needed to be complete. And I trusted that God knew exactly what kind of mom He (in all His wisdom, that I definitely don't have) had created me to be. And things started changing in my heart, things I really can't explain. When that third little H entered our world, I felt complete. I knew what to do. I knew he was going to be different from his big brothers in amazing ways...that they were all three going to grow up to be three very special, very different, very loved men. And I got to be the one that got to be their Mama. And that is a privilege that I don't deserve, but that I'm thankful for every day.

So why am I telling you all this? I know this is a long post, so thanks for sticking with me. I'm getting to the point, I promise! :) I'm telling you this because even now, over two years since the birth of my third little man, I am STILL getting "Wow...three boys. You must have your hands full" and "Don't you wish you had gotten a girl in there?" and "Ok, where's the girl?" comments. All the time. And my patience is very quickly going away. And I don't always respond to those comments as a good Christian girl should. But I know these people don't get it, and that's okay. Because I do.

It is coming full circle for me now, two years later. Last week as I was walking with the two younger H's to pick the big one up from school, we were stomping ant piles (one of our favorite pastimes). As we were watching those furious ants scurry around to rebuild what we had destroyed, I found that I was enjoying the boyish destruction as much as they were. I will admit, however, that the sensitive girl in me did think about how we were destroying what those little ants had worked so hard to build, and that we had to respect that, and I tried to share that with the boys, but they were too busy looking for the next pile to stomp on. Oh well. It was during that time that I realized that I was made for this. I like boy stuff. I like baseball, and hot wheels, and playdoh, I'm not afraid of dirt or bugs. Clowns? Well they are another story for another day. But not only can I handle the boy stuff, I love it.

SO...I am thankful for the privilege of raising these three little guys into (I hope) strong, caring, amazing men. I get to teach them what girls like, and how a boy should treat a girl, and how to be amazing husbands (like their Daddy is to me). Someday, they will each meet the girl of their dreams, and I will inherit three beautiful daughters. That I didn't have to raise! Hooray! :)

Is my life chaotic? Yep. Is it loud? Uh-huh. Does the dirt make me crazy? Sometimes. Am I tired? Most of the time. Do I ever feel outnumbered? Absolutely. Is it hard being the only girl in the house? NO! It's great to be queen! :) Am I very, very loved? You have no idea how great it is, having the love of 3 little boys, and their very handsome Daddy. I wouldn't have it any other way.