Boys!

Throughout each pregnancy, we played the guessing game with the child's gender. I think it bothered other people more than it bothered us. For some reason, they just had to know what we were having and the six months from announcement to birth were too much for some to bear.

Of course everyone likes to guess. Some use the how-you're-carrying method, or want to know if this pregnancy feels like the others. If I used that method, the first four would all be boys because to me they felt like the first. It was just Eden who caused all sorts of trouble in utero. The heartrate method seemed most scientific to me but even that only worked 50 percent of the time for us. For Mariana's pregnancy a friend insisted she had to try the Drano method. Don't ask. But it did work. The test said girl and it was indeed a girl. But it did have a 50/50 chance of being correct. Using intuition alone, I was only correct 3 out of 5 times.

For the most part, it didn't matter to me whether I had a boy or a girl, but I will admit to secretly hoping that the first child was a boy. I had always wanted an older brother and a younger sister. Unfortunately, God didn't answer either prayer and my parents only supplied me with a younger brother. No matter how much I begged, they were steadfast in their resolve. So when it was my turn to provide subsequent siblings with an older brother, I'm glad God answered my unspoken prayers. And when the second was a boy, that was fine, too. I decided that I could handle a house full of boys. But it was nice of God to send a few of the female variety to even things out a bit.

Boys get a bad reputation and I apologize to my sons for that. I remember when one high schooler came home from health class lamenting the fact that the day's speaker talked about sexual violence as if all of the boys in the room were offenders. I'm sorry for the looks from the older folks in the row behind you at the theatre, folks who have already assumed that you are going to be raucous and ruin their entertainment. I apologize for the neighbor who yelled at you for choosing a few nice tomatoes from her "free" basket, presumably thinking you were up to no good rather than following my request.

On the other hand, I thank you for so many things. Thank you for keeping me laughing and guessing. Thank you for your appreciation for food and your gratitude for my labors. Thank you for loving your sisters; for refusing to put up with their roller-coaster emotions but respecting them nonetheless. Thank you for being leaders that others can look up to. Thank you for mentoring others. Thank you for showing your sisters how men should treat women so that they know what to look for in a spouse someday. Thank you for wrestling and throwing ball with the younger ones so that I don't have to do so. Thank you for growing in wisdom and stature (keep in mind that stature is relative), and in favor with God and men.

For anyone else who has boys, you might enjoy this website called MOB Society. On those days when you've stepped on too many Legos, scrubbed too many grass stains, and watched too much testosterone wrestling in the living room, it'll give you a renewed love for each and every one of those little ones.