Girls vs Boys

As a parent, it is impossible to choose one favorite kid over the other. Each brings to the table his or her own unique traits that make me love them to the moon and back, or make me wanna lock em in the closet until their Dad comes home. Today is one of those days where I wish they were both potty trained, obedient and clean… I know when they’re older I will miss them at this age and I should cherish every moment, blah blah blah. But come on…not everyday is sunshine and roses and some days we wish could be stricken from the record.

Both my son and daughter can be as sweet as pie. They are loving and very generous with the hugs and kisses. Both are great eaters. There are foods they don’t like, but they will try everything at least once. That being said, if they do not eat every 30 minutes, they get cranky. Mind you, it takes 20 minutes to eat a bowl of grapes. I feel like I’m constantly whipping up snacks for them. If my daughter doesn’t eat, she isn’t sweet. I’m convinced that’s where “sugar and spice and everything nice, that’s what little girls are made of” came from. Today was a culinary battle of wills with her and she’s been in time out more times than I can remember to count. All because she cranked out when I wouldn’t give her a piece of Easter candy, or the good strawberries (versus the bad ones??), or because I wouldn’t give her brother’s lunch to HER first. She told me he can have what she doesn’t finish. Oy vey.

My son discovered his wiener, aka peepers, in recent months. It’s a natural part of growing up, the self-discovery process. At his age, 20 months, it is nothing sexual. It’s an identification thing. This is his. He found it. He wants to look at it and see how far it can stretch while his britches are being changed. When his pants aren’t too constricting around the waist, he sticks his hand in his pants to make sure his peepers is still there. This action has been the center of attention and laughter at many a party and at plenty of Target visits. The laughter this elicits has encouraged his behavior and he will laugh right along with everyone else. Sometimes he’s the first one to bellow out a howl to draw the attention. It’s a big part of his daily routine right now. What can I do? He certainly doesn’t listen to me when I take his hand out of his pants and tell him to play with the trucks. He’s a boy and this “playing” thing will never end for the rest of his life. Though I am happy to say, I never went through that with my daughter!

On one sunny afternoon, I left the babies with my dad. He thinks his Grandkids are a joy… as long as they go home with their mother at the end of the day. It was a great day of playing outside after lunch, diving into the toy box, munching on snacks and watching some toons. At one point, the boy walks over to him, happy as a clam, showing his hands to my dad. Dad is wondering where in the heck he left the chocolate for the boy to have gotten it all over his hands. Upon closer inspection, dad realizes it isn’t chocolate at all!! Little Mister “Hands in his Pants” has found the golden nugget! The boy is whisked off to the bathroom for a thorough hand washing and then over to the bedroom for a vital diaper change. That moment deserved a special phone call from father to daughter. I’ll be honest, I giggled like a school girl when that call was over. By the way, my daughter never played with her poop.

The constant grazing of fruits and veggies, and only drinking water everyday has contributed to a very healthy system in my kids. The boy easily poops 5 times a day. (It’s 4p and I just changed poopy diaper #4.) There was a special surprise when I picked him up from his nap. Left unsupervised and unchanged is when the best damage is done. When I walked in, the room was stinky and he was showing me his hands. That’s a bad combination right there. Little Mister “Hands in his Pants” had poopy #3. On a positive note, he tried to wipe the poop off his hands this time. At least that’s what I like to tell myself. His cribsheet was like a giant pair of skid marked undies. Super gross. And you’re welcome for the mental picture. I now have a load of laundry going. Thank goodness my daughter is finally potty trained.

As you can see for yourself, my boy is so typical boy. He likes to play with all things masculine…cars, trucks, balls (both his and the sporting kind), and the occasional Disney Princess, just to name a few. This afternoon, I was called into the living room by cries for mama. Apparently, he spotted one of his golf balls under the couch. Being resourceful and as independent as he can be, he went under there and got it for himself. Piece of cake. The hard part was coming back out. His head was stuck under the frame and he couldn’t move anymore. He was scared, rightfully so, but I still had to contain a chuckle as I saw him struggling to get out. A moment later I returned with camera in hand to memorialize the moment before I freed him from his cranial shackle! He wasn’t happy, but you wouldn’t know that by seeing the giant smile on his face when I snapped the pic. Did I mention he got stuck twice today? Tough lessons are learned the hard way. Thankfully, my daughter never got stuck under the couch.

Everyday is an adventure with my children, boys vs. girls, as you parents already know. Today just happened to be crazier than most and it’s what made me hit the laptop to document the zaniness. They make me laugh. They make me cry, but most of all, they make me proud to be a mama and they validate me, my sleepless nights and all my patient hard work.

By the way, it’s almost 6p and I just changed poopy #5. I hope it’s not a #6 kind of day…