But, having known for a while now that we're having a boy, I haven't really talked about what that means to me. To be fair, much of the existential hand wringing I did before LG's birth was because I didn't have any idea what being a parent was like, day to day. Turns out, you spend so much time worrying about feeding, clothing and otherwise keeping the kid alive that most of the intellectual stuff goes out the window. (Which is not to say I don't still worry about what growing up as a girl in 2013 means; I just don't write about it because of the aforementioned day-to-day raising of said girl.)
And so it goes through this pregnancy. I was so happy to find out G2 is a boy. As I told quite a few people at the time, a boy would give me a sense of balance. In the game of LIFE, I'd have a car with two blue pegs and two pink pegs. At the very least, my OCD tendencies could calm down for 5 seconds. Those somewhat bizarre feelings aside, I haven't found the time or the words to articulate all the thoughts bouncing around in my brain about what having a son means to me.
It means equal parts terror and concern for 12-to-16-year-old G2.
Because when I think about my son, I don't see him as an infant, toddler or even a grade schooler. I see him as a pre-teen and teenager. Why? Because if any one stretch of my life felt emotionally hard, it was those years.
I take it as a foregone conclusion that my children will be awkward. I was an awkward kid, and in
It means getting picked on in gym class, and in the locker room.
It means having kids try to cheat off your tests, not necessarily because you're the smart one (though you may be), but because you lack the self-confidence rat them out or to tell them to stop.
It means worrying about getting a date to a dance, because how are you going muster up the strength to ask that question of someone you like?
(I'm quickly realizing that these apply equally to girls. Listen up, LG. This is for you, too.)
But however awkward he turns out, I'd like G2 to know that it really doesn't matter, because happiness and weirdness are not mutually exclusive. Those years may have been tough, by some definition, but they were filled with moments of supreme joy. Such is the manic nature of the young brain. Any given day might hold the worst things and the best things.
Besides, adolescence is going to be tough no matter who you are. The bullies in gym class? For some of them, that's as high on the food chain as they'll rise. The ones cheating off your test? They're terrified of failure in a why you'll never be.
And dates? Well, getting a date just sucks, and you have to suffer through it like we all did. Sorry.
