My Baby Boy Has Swagger

I have a baby boy.

Sometimes this fact, one that’s been true for exactly seven and a half years today, still blows me away.  There are times when I still can’t really wrap my brain around it.

After having two girls, the boy was a paradigm shift.

I’m all about gender equality and boys and girls playing with things that are non-traditional for their gender.  What fascinates me though is that my little guy definitely does gravitate toward more aggressive toys.  Being brought up by the same two people in a house filled with Polly Pockets and Lalaloopsies and dolls galore, he’d rather play with his Rescue Heroes or lightsabers or Mighty World figures.  When he and his sister first started playing together instead of co-playing, they often played Mighty World and Lalaloopsy World.  His people waltzed in and rescued and wreaked havoc and built and destroyed, while our Princess had the Lalaloopsies going to school, dancing, and playing with their pets.

This was with no model; it was just how they played.

Yesterday morning, in one of those “wow, this really happened” moments, I caught Cooter as he was running through my room on his way to build Legos or save a planet or something.  It was early in the morning, so the transgressions from the day before had been forgotten.  Okay, well forgiven anyway.  I knelt down,  pulled him close, and gave him a big hug.

“Do you know how tickled I was to have a baby boy?” I asked him.  “I was so happy when you were born.”

“No you weren’t.  You didn’t want a boy,” he said, with a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Yes, I did.  When I knew you were a boy, my heart was filled with joy.”  I smiled at the look on his face.

Then the real mischief kicked in.

“Ohhhhhh,” he said.  “So you were happier than when you had the girls?”

Oh me.  I see what you did there, bud.  I asked for this, didn’t I?

“No, I was happy they were girls and I was happy you’re a boy.  There will never be a moment in your life that I won’t be happy you are who you are.”

He smiled, ducked my hug, and dashed off.

Sigh.  He’s growing up on me.

Yesterday afternoon after we moved Aub, my college sophomore, and her stuff into her room for the coming year, we all went to the Mart to pick up the last-minute things she needs.  And the fixings for our supper.  My game plan was to divide and conquer.  I sent Aub in one direction and the littles and I headed in another.  When we were just about done, Cooter announced he needed new shampoo.  Really?

“I’m serious.  I’m out.”

I looked at Aub and calculated what I had left to get.

“Can you please take him to get his shampoo?  He knows what it looks like and I’ll take Princess with me to finish up the list on the other side of the store and we’ll be out of here.”

She looked down at Cooter, took his hand, and said, “Okay, but I don’t know why he can’t use her shampoo.”  Both Cooter and our Princess groaned–apparently this would not be okay.

We all headed out to finish our list.  When we met back up with them at the checkout, Cooter was grinning from ear to ear.

“I got some new shampoo.  It smells really good.” He was BEAMING.

Aub shrugged.  “He didn’t like the kids’ ones, so he asked me where the boys’ stuff was.  We headed over and found this.”

My boy's new shampoo.  Old Spice SWAGGER.  Oh good gravy.
My boy’s new shampoo. Old Spice SWAGGER.  It’s Old Spice.  For the Hair.  Oh good gravy.

Yeah you did.

Because it’s a scent she’s quite fond of herself.  Ahem.

Y’all.  For the past two nights this boy has come out of the shower with exactly what it says on the bottle–swagger.  He has me sniff his hair and then emphasizes that it is HIS shampoo.  No one else is to use it.

I’ll have to admit.  It’s a nice change from Fruity Watermelon Peach Apricot Utopia.

But I am not sure I like where this is heading.  Big guy shampoo today, what’s he going to want tomorrow?  The full-size meal at the drive thru?  Shaving cream for a whisker or two?  Jeans without *gasp* an elastic waist?

Say it ain’t so.

Tonight after he headed to bed, I stepped on a Lego and found two Matchbox cars–one on my kitchen counter and one in my tote.  The lightsaber in the middle of the floor doesn’t bother me quite as much.  I’m thinking for now I might be safe.

But just in case, I’m hugging that cute little missing both front teeth boy extra hard tomorrow.  And I’m going to hold his hand as we walk along for as long as he will let me.  I will tell him every chance I get how happy I am that he is my baby boy.  Because it seems like just yesterday that baby made me the Mama of a son.  And now–

now he has swagger.

Oh me.  For the love.

Young’uns, if you’ve got ’em, hug ’em while you can.  This whole time flying by thing is crazy.

Love to all.

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8 thoughts on “My Baby Boy Has Swagger

  1. I am a “babier” I call everyone “BABY” especially my nephews because when they were babies, they lived with us for a while. About 2 years back the youngest (then six) was still having a little trouble pronouncing a few consonants. I remember saying Goodnight Baby, and he looked up at me with those Big Brown Eyes, quite fiercely, and said … “I’NN NOT A BABY” (yess the I’nn is right that M sound was defying him still). And I reminded him that he’d always be a baby to me. He was not happy about that at all. In less than a year after, poof, he didn’t sound like a baby any more either. It felt sad. I knew he had to grow up, but gosh, couldn’t he wait until he was 14 or 15? 😉 Keep hugging on them and loving them. It does all go by so quickly. Thanks for the swagger this morning! 🙂 I may have to take them to the store and see if they want some.

    1. Oh Michelle, I get upset when Aub corrects how he’s saying something. For years helicopter was hepi-tractor and I adored it. Course Aub used to say butter-feety instead of barefeet and I still say it from time to time. It does go by so quickly, doesn’t it? Seven years, say what? Almost nineteen–say it ain’t so! I could have worse problems. He likes smelling nice, and I’m very okay with that. (And while many scents trigger headaches for me, this one, oddly enough, does not–so we’re all good.)
      Thanks for reading and sharing your story. So sweet. They’ll ALWAYS be our babies.

    1. Oh me. Yes. Too young. I am comforted by the fact that he still looks like my little guy. But once those two front teeth come in, all bets are off. That and he’s talking about maybe wanting his long locks cut…..oh me. I’m thinking in part it may be having the older sibling who’s working towards exiting her teens in a year. She “might” have had something to do with it. 😉 Thanks for reading and sharing about your son. Good to know that even though we are early, we are not alone.

  2. Great swagger for mama and her boy. When I had my boy, I was totally shocked, it never dawned on me that my first born wouldn’t be a girl. That boy just turned 24 last week and being his parent broke me in big time. I had to throw out all assumptions (well mostly all) and start over from scratch when he was born. Boys will do that to their mamas!

    1. That is it exactly, isn’t it? Throw it all out and start from scratch. I had to do that with my girls too to some extent, just being a new Mama and then a new Mama after nine years of not having a baby in the house. But girls–I at least get how their minds work for the most part. Yeah, he’s a whole new ball game and I think it is very, very cool. I just wish he’d slow down a little bit. At least he hasn’t started talking about GIRLS yet. 😉
      Thanks for reading and sharing your story. Happy belated birthday to your boy and Mama day to you!

  3. Pingback: Cooter, Class Clown and Caregiver | I Might Need A Nap

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