Raising a Boy

C is still young, very young at 2 1/2, but I can already see how the next 5, 10, 20 years are going to fly by. It’s awesome, and also scares the hell out of me. I was an only child and a girl, so boy “things” are new to me everyday. Even as somewhat of a tomboy growing up (can you say She-Ra castle AND Hotwheels Crash Course?), I can already see at age 2, there is a hard wired propensity for the gross, dirty, and otherwise disgusting (yet hysterical). 

That doesn’t really bother me, actually it’s kind of fun to act like a 2 year old once in a while, and be curious about dirt, bugs, etc. What really scares me is in 10 years, when this kid is 12.  I remember the 12 year old boys in middle school. They were, uh, annoying, and loud, and disgusting (this of course, coming from a 12 year old girl’s perspective). I still keep in touch with two male friends from my middle school years, and I know everything works out fine, everyone gets a good job, or gets married, or has kids, or isn’t a serial killer, but still, I’m not sure how I’ll navigate those pre-pubescent years without sending myself to a yoga retreat for 4 years. 

I think maybe I’ll let the hubs take this one – he was a gross 12 year old boy once, right?


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