I understand what they're saying to some degree. I have a daughter, too, so I have experienced my share of D-R-A-M-A -- and we are not remotely near the teen years. So, I get it, parenting a teenage girl likely leaves a mama with a few emotional scars that make parenting her son feel like a breeze by comparison.
And, my day of teenage girl drama will come...
But what about right now? What about these crazy-busy-can't-keep-up-with-him little boy days when I want to tear my hair out because parenting a boy is NOT easy. It's downright difficult and not at all for wimps. The list of mommyisms, things that I have said to my son and that I would never dream of saying to my daughter, is growing by the day!
- "NO! We don't play catch with a rock!"
- "Stop smooshin' ants and come eat lunch."
- "We don't put our foot in the toilet."
- "No peeing in the tub! No peeing on your sister!!"
- "Hey, Buddy, 10 minutes, and then you've got to get pants on." (Because, you know, I don't want the other people at the bus stop to think I'm a bad mom!)
So, been-there-done-that moms, I know you mean well, but I don't agree that moms of boys hold the monopoly on "easy." While these exchanges with my little man were very different from ones I have had with my daughter, they weren't easier in any way. (Seriously, I have never had to tell her not to pee on her brother or beg her to wear pants outside of the house!) Can we please just agree that boys are different?
While different has meant more dirt in more places (Some of them very odd -- How do his ears get so dirty?), more noise (Oh.My.Goodness. It's like he has only one volume setting: LOUD!), and more phone calls to poison control, it's not better or worse than the experiences I have had with his sister. The main distinction in the relationships between my kids and me is how we relate to each other. I am starting the believe that the saving grace of boys -- those messy little monsters who swing from the curtains and climb on EVERYTHING -- is just how much they love their mamas.
Well, naturally I melted. How could anyone stay mad at the little Don Juan? But still, I have to wonder, When EXACTLY does it get easier?