I am surrounded by friends who are mothers to little girls. And although kids will be kids, it got me thinking about the many (many, many, MANY) reasons I am so thankful to be having my third BOY...
Firstly, I do not understand little girl politics. Like, you can't invite so and so to the birthday party because even though she may be your own daughter's friend, she is also friends with the "enemy". What?.. no, really, what?
Then there's Justin Bieber. I don't even know where to begin. I just learned who the dude was like two weeks ago. And I hear there is this, um, "Bieber Fever"??? Little boys don't listen to this stuff, and if they do, I blame YOU - mom and dad. Sorry but.. BLEH (shuddering). Wonderful, hilarious example here: http://2setsoftwins-helene.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-confess_18.html
Squeals and whining and what are those things called?? Oh yeah, emotions. Good LORD. I really love that if I tell my boys "no", they aren't afraid to bellow a wisecrack or throw out a smart remark in bold tone. I can handle arguing, smart-mouthing, even disrespect. I cannot, however, handle whining and crying. It's like the time I told Mr. Pants I was not going to buy him a monster truck and he said to me, "But I'm your best friend.. and I am NOT an asshole either, mommy."
Fashion: my boys could care less if they are dressed in someone else's clothes, let alone clothes that match. My friend's daughter cried for an hour because her SOCKS weren't the exact same shade of pink as one tiny little frilly thing on her t-shirt. I wanted to paralyze her vocal chords. My boys only think it's time for a bath when they can actually smell themselves and start searching their clothing for the source of the mysterious death/garbage/dirty feet odor. My kids will wear socks that don't match, a shirt that they aren't sure where it came from and on occasion, things that don't even fit. But they won't whine and cry over such fashion faux pa as the wrong color shade.
Being scared of creepy-crawly things on the ground. I watched a little girl at my son's preschool have an absolute panic attack over two microscopic ANTS on the sidewalk outside. She was literally sobbing and whining some unintelligible garble as though a knife-wielding attacker had just run up to her. Good Christ almighty. Mr. Pants thinks a baby crib is for housing pet chickens. Bugs? Oh he thinks those are for trapping with his hands and, on occasion, smashing. Depends on his mood. But I have NEVER, ever heard him go into hysterics over something with more than two legs.
And then there is the obvious. If I had a daughter, and if she survived to adolescence, ONE of us probably wouldn't make it much further than that. I can't imagine dealing with the "you just don't understand me" hormones or the "he really DOES love me" episodes.. or the PMS...
People say that children are a gift from God. I say give me the boys and you can keep the girls.