I always knew we were adopting a boy. This wasn't a surprise to me. I thought I had prepared myself by regularly spending time with my friends male children. You can all begin laughing at me now.
How on earth do you raise a boy? I am so thankful that I have Bill here to help translate life for me, I would be lost without him. We have experienced everything from scraped knees to broken glasses at meal time. If Isaac is standing in a room for more than 10 seconds without direction he goes for the one thing you wish he wouldn't touch and begins playing with it. Activities end when something gets broken or someone gets hurt (there is no other reasonable reason to stop--unless maybe someone offers food.) Hugs come primarily as a means to prevent bedtime.
ME: Isaac, go to sleep.
ISAAC: Huggie Mommy!
ME: Awe, that's so sweet he is coming over to hug me.
BILL: No, I am pretty sure he is trying to fart on your face.
(Bill was right. Isaac can fall down a hundred times and not cry, but he cried for 5 min because I wouldn't let him fart on my face again)
ME: Don't let him play with that, it's not a toy
BILL: Boys need to touch things to figure out how they work. He'll probably take it apart and break it too.
(I am becoming increasingly skilled with duct tape)
ME: Cara, can you see if that gate is unlocked?
BILL: Why is she going that way?
ME: She is staying on the path.
BILL: But the shortest distance is across the grass and jumping down off that wall.
CARA: It's open (as Bill and Isaac cut across the grass and jump down off the wall)
CARA: Mom, there's a bug. (meanwhile Isaac has already killed it and moved on to the next thing)
ISAAC: Yeah Bahma (poop) - as he proudly stares into the toilet at his creation.
ME: (gasping for air as I try to flush before I pass out) Yeeeeahh.
My new definition of "is this dirty?" is "Did Isaac pee on it?" If not, it goes back in the closet to wear tomorrow. (Isaac is trained but needs to work on his aim) My new definition of "sleeping in" involves laying still while someone throws their entire body weight on my back over and over again. Isaac's definition of "coloring" is "how many crayons can I use in 30 seconds?"
One thing I learned a long time ago is that "Different isn't wrong, it's just different"
There are great moments too. Like when Isaac conquered the pool in one day and now jumps in by himself (even when you're not looking) or when he proudly accomplishes something and shouts "Mommy!" so he can show me his new skill. Occasionally I'll even get an unsolicited kiss or hug and I know I must have done something really right.
It's a whole new ballgame for me, but each day I am learning to laugh a little more and find the fun in raising a boy.
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