Monday, April 20, 2009

On the overabundance of testosterone

We went to dinner at Applebee's on Friday. Now, Applebee's is not my favorite place to eat. I'd rather go with Chili's, but Thomas had a free meal, so it seemed appropriate for him to use it. And I'm not one to turn down going to eat.

There was a family sitting behind us made up of a mom, dad, and two daughters of the toddler-sort. I noticed them as they stood up to leave. The dad had just picked up the youngest of the two, and was trying to get her settled on his hip before trucking her out. I smiled at him, and thought: we have a lot in common.

We are both the aliens in our house.

Now, my kids will tell me that there are as many girls in our house as boys. That is because they count our 3, unknown-to-them-sexless cats. Sure, they are technically girls, but only because they were born with girl-cat parts, which have never nor will ever work.

No, I am the sole girl in the family. Which means I do a lot, and I mean a LOT of eye-rolling at things like farts at the dinner table, arm farts whenever shirts are off, and loud burps emanating from small bodies. I am the only one in my house who doesn't turn kitchen implements into swords or other such weapons. I wait alone for the tickle-monster game to be completed, while they groan that it ever has to end.

I look at my male counterparts, the ones with all daughters and wonder: what atrocities of being the sole male in their household are they enduring? Do they have to sit through long periods of hair-bow making while watching the clock? Do they tire of stepping on barbie doll shoes in the same way I tire of stepping on Lego's? I'll probably never know.

It makes me wish (again) that my dad was in a state where I could talk to him. Was our lovely yard a labor of love, or a solace to escape all the estrogen in the house? What did he do while we tried on clothes for hours at the mall? I never once heard him mention wanting a son, but how could he not want someone playing on his team in the house. Someone to throw the baseball with, or talk about the basketball game with, or just sit in silence together and be grateful for their testosterone.

I know I look at those cats and wish they were little girls with blue eyes and brown hair and dimples. They would look so sweet next to their handsome, blue eyed brothers, who I wouldn't trade for the whole world.

I'd just like to even the score out a little, and let them do a little eye-rolling for once.


Amy Sorensen said...

sniff. I hope you know I send you "magical daughter vibes" all the time. I wish I could just make it happen!

I have often wondered how dad might have been different if we'd've also had a brother in our mix. Would he have made him more involved? Or would we have ended up with a very girly brother???

Amy Sorensen said...

ps, every time I see a family with two little girls I get a little bit teary eyed. Like you, I wouldn't trade my boys in for anything, but I do still so long for a few more girls.

Anonymous said...

would you like to borrow Madi for the day? She farts and burps any boy or MAN under the table. You could always give your boys ballroom dance lessons. You'd have the best of both worlds!
Love you, Suzette

Jeanette said...

I'm right there with you and I constantly lament this to my husband.

My only solace is that I do have a daughter (Ah here come the tears) and some day I will get to make hairbows and step on Barbie shoes and teach her how to sew and crochet (I hope anyway, will we still have hairbows and Barbies in the millenium?).

In the meantime I find myself wandering down the doll isle in the toy store picking out what I would have bought her for Christmas this year, or what cute dress I would have picked out.

I roll my eyes at the burping and farting although much to my mother's dismay I have become quite proficient at the burping myself, after all, if you can't beat them, join them right?

But I cringe at all the boy activies, I don't want to go camping or riding four wheelers. I will suffer through a few ball games a year before I have reached my limit. I get SO SICK AND TIRED of their mouths errupting in shooting noises, and I hate the way every kind of play evolves into a battle to the death.

I yearn for tea parties and baby dolls and QUIET!

Jeff and Kayci Bitton said...

Why don't I just leave Grace with you for a week....she might be happy to come home for once:) Love you! Can't wait to see you in a couple weeks!

Ginger said...

I say, "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em". That's what I do and I find it quite amusing. But then again, I grew up with 3 brothers and no sisters.