I was nervous about being the mother of a boy. When we found out that's what you were, I went straight to the library to pick up a copy of Steve Biddulph's Raising Boys. I was only 20 weeks into the pregnancy but I had a lot of ground to cover. See, I'm a super girly girl. I don't like competitive sports; know nothing about dinosaurs or cars or construction vehicles; and feel distinctly nervous when I see anyone wearing army camouflage. I'm definitely not perfect boy-mum material.
And lo and behold, you are very "boy". You love dinosaurs and diggers, facts and figures, speed and force. You can build things that I would struggle to put together. You are fearless about creepy crawlies and slimy slugs and snails. You love to climb.
The night after you were born, I couldn't sleep and I watched your little profile in the half-dark and wondered, who is this person? I know so much more now but I'm still so very intrigued by you.
You surprise me everyday with the interesting ways your mind works. You give the sweetest kisses and the most consuming hugs. I think that you are pretty damn smart and I wonder how I will ever keep up. You are four, little guy, and I am very happy to be your mama.