Tuesday, June 14, 2011


I have three beautiful boys, and sure if I'd been given the choice with baby number 3 then I would have put my hand up for a girl.  But that's not how it works.  And in fact when my oldest and dearest friend came along to the 12 week scan in the absence of The Husband, and we found out he was a boy, and also that my nuchal fold tests weren't crash hot, all my focus suddenly shifted to having this lovely healthy little boy.  Sex?  Whatever. Just get me a healthy baby please, and this one. We held hands and she cried with me. How lovely is it to hold a girls little hand rather than a mans big hand?
So boys I have been gifted with, and they are beautiful, smart, adorable boys who I just want to grow into beautiful, smart and adorable men.

I will miss out on something by being a mum to boys.  And all you mums to girls will get me.
Ok, it's shallow and absolutely not important in the scheme of it.  However I will be hard pushed to have the pleasure of a shopping trip with a child.  Make that MY child.  This is not a gross generalisation that mums with sons will not have pleasurable shopping experiences together.  I think it's just mine.  A few months ago I was in a surfing shop and a mum and her 15'ish year old daughter were browsing the same racks of swimwear that I was.  Daughter was pumping for the teeny bikinis, Mum, the less so. Daughter wasn't that well endowed so Mum was carefully trying to guide her towards ones that might help.  It was companiable and lovely.  I felt lonely.  I realised that I would never be able to do that kind of shopping.

During the weekend my eldest son needed a new hoodie.  This morphed into a family trip to the mall on a wet Sunday.   He quickly tired of me dragging him to shops (excuse me but where are all the mini teen boys clothing hiding in the Warringah Mall?).  During a break, I ducked into a surf shop and put about 6 or 7 hoods aside for him to try on.  We came back in, I gave him the pile, and headed to the changing room area with him.  "I'm going to do this on my own Mum.  I'll tell you which one I choose", he stated, and before I could say "well Bucko, that won't be happening because I'm the one with the credit card", he'd disappeared into the changing rooms and LOCKED THE DOOR.  Not only was my son not into this shopping expedition with his mum, but he'd actually locked her out of it.  The best I could do was unsuccessfully peep through crack of the door and catch a sliver of mirror.  Disappointed.  He humoured me a few minutes later by coming out with a pile of discarded ones and his chosen one that he tried on for me.  I handed over the credit card.  We were done.
I know that at some stage all boys do leave their mothers, but I will not accept that mine chose to do it in the mall.
Do you think "shopping" is an analogy for something bigger here?

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