Introspection

I've been wondering lately if it's going to be harder raising a boy than a girl... I always used to think it would be easier, but I've considered two of the main reasons why I always thought that, and I've come to see that they are actually deceptive.

1. Boys don't get pregnant (this was directly from the mouth of my father, when I asked why parents were more protective of girls than of boys)

2. Boys are less dramatic than girls

First: Pregnancy

In response to boys not getting pregnant, I've decided it is much worse from a parental aspect that they can get other people pregnant. Consider this, a young girl has a LOT to lose if she becomes pregnant. She has at least 9 months of her life completely altered, and possibly the rest of it as well. There is a huge deterrent for girls to be careful with the whole getting-pregnant thing. Boys, on the other hand, don't have that natural consequence. Sure, if they care about the girl they will stick around, and the rest of their life could be affected too, but what happens if it was a short relationship? Say it's over even before the pregnancy comes into the picture? Worst case scenario, as far as he's concerned, his life doesn't have to change at all.

Now I know that a lot of that is already ruled out by a loving, nurturing upbringing. Hopefully without me making any special effort over and above basic parenting, my son would have more consideration and care than to live out that worst-case-scenario. However, it will take special effort and conscientious attention to teach my son the honor and respect I want him to have for women, and for children. I suppose I'm falling into the trap of believing that boys naturally feel less love and empathy toward others, which I'm sure in my head isn't true... but sometimes I wonder. Can I instill enough empathy into my son(s), enough respect for honor and righteousness? They have a great example in their father, but between the two of us I know I'll be doing a lot of the talking. I'm just praying God will provide me the words, and that He will guide my boys through the situations that I'm sure they'll never tell me they are in.

Next: less drama.

K, first of all I already know this isn't exactly true... one of my younger brothers had plenty of drama throughout his elementary-school friendships. However, if I think back, that's because his friends were all girls.

The reason that boys being less dramatic in general is actually a scary thing for me, can be seen in the movie "Cheaper by the dozen". I'm not planning to have 12 kids, I'm not exactly that crazy, but I have firsthand experience, being from a family of 6 kids for a while, that you don't have to have 12 kids for some stuff to fall through the cracks. If you remember in that movie there was a little redheaded boy who was quietly miserable and lonely in the middle of his busy, bustling family. In the end, he ran away from home and the family realized how upset he'd been and rallied around him and it was all good and happy, blah blah, family values. But that's not the real world. Sometimes if you miss a critical moment of emotion, or of need, you can't get it back. Not every slight can be covered by an outpouring of love that comes too late.

What if my less expressive boy is in pain, deep pain, and I miss it? I don't want my little guy to be scarred because I'm too caught up in life, and he's too quiet for me to hear above the noise. I do want a big family, and I know that there are always some consequences to the kids, along with some benefits, but I'm praying and praying that somehow the consequences won't be lastingly painful. I think if I work hard enough at relationship with each child, boys or girls, hopefully I won't miss anything big, but boys being inexpressive at times is definitely a detriment to be overcome in a large family.

All my life I've wanted to be a mother, and not just because I think babies are cute. I want to be a mother because I truly believe that God has given me a calling for it, and that there is important work I can do as a mother. I want to be a mother so that I can raise up my children in love and righteousness, so that lives will be blessed through them.

It's exciting, and so scary. I'm only human, I can't be perfect, but I want to be perfect for my babies. I want to be perfect for the teenagers I see in their futures, the one I sometimes glimpse in Rosie's face. I don't want to be perfect without making any mistakes, but perfect in that the mistakes I make will be examples to them of how to handle mistakes. I want my mistakes to teach them to forgive when they need to forgive me, and teach them to be human and strive to be their best with good attitudes, but not to give up when they mess up.

I just don't want my mistakes to harm them. And that's what's so scary, how easily that can happen. Jesus, be the healer, hold my children close when I can't, wipe away the tears that I miss, whisper into their hearts the words that I fail to say, or that come out wrong.