differences

It was a year ago, give or take a couple days, that I found out I was pregnant.  By total surprise.  After I had written myself off as an infertile mess.  Huh.  Then, just before New Years, I was surprised yet again to find out I was going to be having a girl.

I’d gotten rather used to having boys.  I sort of just expected that I would have boys.  That was the “default answer” and I was pretty okay with that.  There’s something so sweet about boys.  I’ve always said (and still do) that if I had to have children of only one gender, that I would rather have all boys than all girls.  I think, honestly, that it would be easier.  Girls, particularly more than one girl at a time, freak me out.  There’s a sort of “pack” thing that goes on with girls and I would fear for my sanity especially during the teenage years.

Not that boys aren’t a challenge.  But I’ve always felt that I could probably handle boys a lot easier than I could girls.  And at least I wouldn’t have to explain what a “period” is to a boy, right?

All of this said, I am really enjoying having a daughter.  I am truly amazed that it is a little different.  For me, at least.  She seems to have a different sort of temperment than either of the boys ever had.  Which isn’t to say she is a perfect angel.  Because she can be a needy, clingy, sharp (OMG the fingernails) little creature.  But, oh my stars, I just love her to death.  And I spend a lot of time looking into her eyes and trying to imagine the girl and woman she will become.  I’m truly humbled by her.

Taken with my cellphone after a nursing session in the van, she was interested in anything other than eating.

She has learned about the joy that is the ’saucer this last week.

Liam tries to show Evie how to play with his old ’saucer.

Evie tries to grab the camera from me.

The lace on this dress just KILLS me.  I love it so much.

Taking a wee snooze on the boppy.

OMG, that’s it.  I want to eat her.

I want to hold onto these days forever.

Seriously, you could probably write a book about how much stuff they never tell you before having kids.  Or about how they tried to tell all this stuff before you had kids, but you never listened.  Or you listened but you didn’t believe them because you were going to be different!  You’re SPECIAL, damnit.  Ahem.  Something like that.

Anyhow, my point here is that I was never told just how different a mom that I would be to each of my children.  Oh sure, I heard all the talk about how “each child is different”.  And I beleived it because I grew up in a family of five children.  But I guess I never stopped to realize that you are a different mom to each child.  Or is that just me?  Becuase I SWEAR, I never expected to feel so differently each and every time.

There are basics in place, of course.  I’m a pretty laid back mom (NO WAY, you’re KIDDING… ) and generally don’t get too worked up over things.  My kids, more often than not, might have a smear or two on their faces.  My house tends to look a little “rough around the edges” by the end of the day.  I encourage all of them to be able to play on their own without me, though at Liam’s age, I do join in from time to time.  I also don’t put up with much nonsense and demand respectful behavior and adherence to the rules and regulations (be they what they are) around the house.

But as for how I relate to each child?  It has literally amazed me at how differently I interact with each one.  With Harry, he was my first.  We had a very close relationship for the first six years of his life.  As a baby and toddler, though, I think I spent more time worrying about things and focusing on the little things that just aren’t really worth worrying about.  I don’t think I enjoyed the small moments with him as much as I could have.  I was too busy thinking about what I should be doing and what milestones he should be achieving.  I’m pretty sure all first time moms do this.

With Liam, he was our Golden Child.  The miracle baby at the end of a long line of infertility and loss.  I was older than when I’d had Harry.  And with Liam, I have been more patient, and perhaps more indulgent.  Those early days and months were almost literally spent staring into his eyes and just basking in the glow.  The milestones came and went and I noticed but didn’t really care, you know what I mean?  Liam is my monkey boy and as he grows and more of his personality shows, I’m just charmed by him.  To him, I’m a soft lap to cuddle in.  And can I help it if I find it adorable that he calls everyone “mama”?  Even Harry is “mama”.  Kile will try to prompt him to call him “papa” and Liam will actually argue, “No… mama!”

And it’s different with Evie too.  I honestly never thought I’d get to have a little girl.  I figured I would have all boys and that would be that.  So she’s a surprise to me, every day.  And with her, I have yet another special kind of relationship.  We’ll often escape the cacophony of the boys playing to go change a diaper and while I’m cleaning her up, we’ll smile at each other in a way that says, “I’m on your side, sister.”  She doesn’t like loud noises or being handled roughly.  She loves to be sung to and told she’s a multitude of wonderful things (such as being smart, being a big girl, being pretty, etc and so forth).  She loves to study pictures and faces and does so with a sober, serious look on her face.  She is very tactile and tends to “paw” a lot with her hands, generally at my chest or my hands or a blanket (whatever is handy).  I take a delicate hand with her that I never had to have with her brothers.  She is vastly more talkative at this age and I find myself responding to her coos with delight.  It remains to be seen if she’ll be interested in the boy’s toys and playing in the dirt, but for now she’s my girly girl.  And I will admit to treating her as such.

Leave it to these tiny terrors to put our world on it’s ear, huh?  Being a mom at home (or at work, for that matter) isn’t easy and it’s a lot of work to deal with this rigamarole day in and day out.  But stopping to notice the differences and embrace them?  Well that’s just awesome.

And when Harry gets home?  I’m totally going to cheer him on while he plays a rousing round or two of Mario Kart.  Because he is plain awesome at Mario Kart.

It’s hard to put your finger on it. But it is different.

I’ve long felt that baby girls must be much like baby boys. Of course, I only had baby boys around me, but I felt certain about this. After all, they’re babies. Maybe when they get a little older, start having personalities and interests, maybe that was when the differences would show. But in the early weeks where the baby is little more than an eating, sleeping and pooping blob, there can’t be much that is feminine or masculine, right?

Well, while I still think that’s basically true, there are a few little differences here and there. They have totally surprised and charmed me. For instance, Evie doesn’t care to be manhandled much. She’s now getting old enough to where she can be played with a bit. Kile has always played with our babies in the past and the boys always enjoyed his particular brand of bouncing and swinging at this age. It was often how he would coax their early smiles out. But Evie just does NOT care for it. She’ll make a sour face, even start crying. She seems a lot more sensitive to touch and noise than either of my boys ever was.

She also loves to be spoken to or sung to. Not that the boys didn’t also enjoy such treatments but this is where she really will beam out her smiles. Often, while I’m changing her diaper I will coo at her and tell her what a pretty girl she is or sing a little song to her about being a princess with dirty pants. She eats it up and smiles and wriggles about with obvious joy. That is what she really responds to… interaction, not action. Isn’t that interesting?

Sugar and spice and all that’s nice…

Snips and snails and puppy dog tails!