I am a boy mom. I’ve lovingly held that title since 2014 when my first son joined our family. My second and third children were also boys, which secured my moniker. Boys are great! The rough and rowdy energy to play in the dirt, climb trees, and make engine noises for every moving thing fits my personality. I love being a boy mom!
For six and a half years, I was only a boy mom. But when other parents talked about ponies and princesses, I didn’t feel left out. Trucks and dirt filled my heart so there was no room for ponies and princesses. When my three boys ran around with hair uncombed and dirt on their faces, often without shirts, it was okay—because I was a boy mom. I embraced this as my identity. It’s what made me special, and it gave me a place to belong. Mistakenly, I hung on to the notion that having a girl would take away from my identity as a mom. I wouldn’t be unique anymore. I would just be a mom.
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You know where this story is going. In 2021, I welcomed my baby girl. Right from the beginning, I knew she was a girl. Nothing was different physically, but I could feel her sweet spirit. Throughout my entire pregnancy, I resisted the idea of having a girl. I was a boy mom. What would I do with a girl?! While I was truly happy to welcome this new addition, I mourned the loss of my beloved title. I thought that, with a girl, I would no longer be a boy mom.
My sweet girl came as my tiniest baby, 7lbs 1 oz. My first comment was “She’s tiny! Guys, is she tiny?” The nursing staff assured me she was normal-sized. As I held her on my chest, a feeling pressed upon my heart that I knew her. I had been waiting for this tiny girl.
My boys were so excited to meet their baby sister. When we came home from the hospital, they lined up at the door for a chance to hold her. I watched the same transformation come over their faces as I had experienced in the hospital, particularly with my middle son.
Up to this point, his idea of having a sister was that we should name her “Butt Butt.” To say he was less than excited was a definite understatement. Yet, he was the first in line to hold her. He wrapped his tiny 4-year-old arms around her and smiled down so sweetly. As I looked around the room at my four children, three rowdy boys and one sweet girl, I felt God’s confirmation that this was the way He had intended my family to be.
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Today I am a girl mom, and I am a boy mom. Turns out, you don’t have to be one or the other. I dearly love my boys. We wrestle and play in the mud. There’s lots of giggling and hugs from scraped knees. I love my sweet girl just as much. She loves tiny bows in her hair and carrying around her baby doll. She’s sassy and helps me keep all these boys in line. The really special moments are when I see all of my children play together. They find a beautiful mix of boy and girl to incorporate into their games as the boys wrestle one another and protect their princess from harm.
Having a girl doesn’t make me any less of a boy mom. It adds to what I’ve held so dear. God knew my heart needed a girl.