Warning: This post will NOT contain any stereotypes about boys versus girls.
It WILL NOT make any blanket statements or exaggerations. And by NO MEANS, will I attempt in any way to convince you that girls are somehow BETTER than boys.
None of that. What I am about to express are simply the cold hard facts as I have seen them in my house.
You see, when I was pregnant with our third child, I assumed it would be another boy. I mean, by then, I knew what to expect with boys. I knew how to handle them. And I knew that they would never attempt to usurp my status as Queen of the Household.
So, when the doctor told me I was having a girl, I accepted it quite matter-of-factly. “Aren’t you SO GLAD you are having a giiiiirrrrrrllllll?!?!” people would always ask. “I’m OK with whatever I have,” I would answer honestly.
Well, that was before I realized the whopping, ganormous, unbelievable blessing that God had chosen to bestow upon ME! A girl! Another female in this house to counterbalance all of the boyishness dominating the place.
This blessing was reaffirmed to me this morning when my sweet little 4-year-old came running into my office and said, “Mommy! Is it OK if I clean the toothpaste smears off the sink?!”
After thinking for a millisecond, I said, “OK, honey! That would be fine!”
Once she had completed this fun little assignment, she decided it was time to empty the linen closet of the washcloths that were haphazardly stacked there, refold each one and then neatly stack them in little piles.
Hmmm. Would my boys ever get such an urge? Let’s look at a little evidence.
After they have finished eating, the two boys, ages 8 and 6, run off in search of their light sabers, leaving behind their bowls, surrounded by pools of milk and smashed Lucky Charms.
Meanwhile, 4-year-old daughter takes her bowl and spoon and sets it on the counter without being reminded.
Boys spray their pee on the toilet seat, the toilet lid, the outside of the toilet and the floor surrounding the toilet before rushing off, without flushing, in search of their light sabers.
Daughter uses the restroom without a trace, flushes and later asks, “Mommy! Is it OK if I clean the toilet?”
Boys practice light saber fight while leaping over piles of clean laundry I am folding.
Daughter squeals, “What can I do?!?” Then, she begins sorting the clothes, stacking the underwear in neat piles and folding the towels.
This is not to say I love those sweet little boys with their big brown eyes any less. They are masters at making me feel so loved when their little sister is overcome with emotion about a missing princess shoe.
But I’m so thankful for my daughter.