Little boys are a breed of their own, aren't they?
I ponder this every time I observe Super Boy playing, by himself or with friends, inside or outside, and in the way he makes pictures or Lego "creations", and in the stories he crafts in his mind and then shares with me. He just does things differently than little girls seem to.
Super Boy is sooo different than Super Girl was at this age. She was never a super girly-girl kind of little girl, never getting into Barbies or baby dolls or other girly stuff, so you'd almost think that they'd have been a bit more similar in their interests and behaviors, but you'd be wrong. Yes, Super Girl preferred to look at bugs and animals the same as Super Boy does, but where she was pretty much strictly an observer, Super Boy wants to HANDLE (also known as "squeeze") the bugs and keep them in his bug house. And then keep the bug house inside our house. (Can you hear the shivers of revulsion radiating down my body?)
What causes these differences? Are they hardwired into their brains or do we subconsciously encourage certain behaviors in boys versus girls? I know this is a debate that has gone on for decades, and I think most people agree that there is a certain amount of each that plays a part, but I just find it fascinating to observe.
I know friends and acquaintances of mine have often marveled at their sons' behaviors, too. It seems like moms of little boys are the ones saying the oddest things over and over again:
"Don't eat the dirt from the flower pot."
"Please stop trying to stick that worm in your nose."
"Stop sticking your fingers in the dogs ears!" (Or, worse, in other canine body parts...)
"Please keep your hands out of your pants in public."
"Quit shoving Legos in your nose!"
I swear, I just said that last one to Super Boy two nights ago. He was sitting next to me on the couch rebuilding a Lego creation for the hundredth time while I read a book, when all of a sudden I heard him blowing oddly through his nose. I peeked over at him to see what he was doing just in time to see one tiny, round Lego piece shoot out of his nostril. He looked up at me guiltily as my jaw dropped (I've warned the kid since he was a toddler NEVER to stick things in his nose - and he never has!)... and then admitted that he couldn't get the other one out!
I plugged the side of his nose that was empty and told him to blow out hard through the other nostril. Thankfully, the Lego shot out then.
Trust me, I breathed a HUGE sigh of relief! I've had several friends who've had to take their little boys in to the doctor or ER to have small objects removed from their nostrils, so I was fully preparing myself for that to be the case here.
With all offensive objects out of his nasal cavities, I sat staring at Super Boy in wonder, debating what to say. The guilty expression remained on his face, so I knew he knew what he had done was NOT good.
So I asked the one question that was just begging to be asked: "Honey, what were you thinking?"
The unsurprising response?
"I don't know, Mom!"
That pretty much sums it all up right there.
I love him more than life itself, but I sure hope that the days of him sticking small objects up his nose are coming to an end soon.