Raising a Son Terrifies Me!

The moment we found out that Autumn was going to be a girl, I remember quietly breathing a little sigh of relief. I can handle a girl. I am a girl. I have a mother, two younger sisters, a mother-in-law, a sister-in-law and two nieces. I know how to dress a little girl, what little girls like to play with, how they think, what they feel. I can handle a girl.

The moment we found out that Nate was going to be a boy, I swear I heard Steve let out a sigh of relief. I, on the other hand, had a moment of panic and anxiety. A little boy. I know nothing about little boys. Nothing. I did not grow up with any boys, with the exception of my friend's brothers, and they were just annoying. Heck, Steve and I have been together for 13 years and I am still trying to figure him out. Boys like to get dirty, boys like to play with bugs, boys sweat and smell. And from what my friends who have boys tell me, boys do not stop moving.

The thought of raising a son terrified me.

Now, don't get me wrong, I was excited to be having a boy. It would be something completely new to both Steve and I, but with that excitement came the anxiety. What if I am not a good "boy mom"? I am pretty obsessive-compulsive when it comes to Autumn, as far as dirt, snotty noses and stains-on-clothes are concerned. I have been told I cannot be that way with a boy, that it would be a never-ending battle. I am not the most out-doorsy individual and activities that make me sweat are not high on my list. I HATE bugs. I have never played with a truck or a matchbox car.

I have no idea what little boys are thinking or feeling. I know that I have Steve to navigate this with, but from a mother's perspective I felt lost. How will I know the right things to say when Nate is in tears over something I have never experienced, because I am not a boy? Will I be able to comfort him the same way I am able to comfort Autumn?

The thought of raising a son terrified me.

Then I had my son. From the moment when he was laid on my chest, staring up at me, with all of the trust in the world, I knew we would be fine. The anxiety subsided. I might not always understand what he is feeling and I might not always know what he is thinking. I might not be able to relate with different experiences he has, or always know the right thing to say, but I will always be there to listen.

Now, as far as the dirt, sweat and bugs? That's what his Dad is for.