When our two sons were young, a neighborhood friend, mother of three boys, hosted an annual party for mothers of boys only. It was a popular occasion, filled with laughter and wild tales of the shenanigans our sons had instigated. By the time these young men graduated from elementary school and finally high school, we had many amusing stories to share.
I’d always assumed sons were easy to raise. They were transparent: what you saw is what you got. Okay, life was not without its upsets. A soccer ball flew through a window and two ceiling light fixtures got fractured, one with an impressive karate kick. Yet nothing much bothered me. I considered the boys’ tomfooleries part of growing up and becoming individuals.
On the other hand, mothers of girls had related stories of teenage emotional turmoil. As a teen, I was not the epitome of the perfect child. Whatever that is. I used to joke with our sons that if they tried to be perfect as children they’d end up in therapy as adults.
What do you think? Are boys easier to raise than girls? Do I have this concept upside down and backwards? I’d love a daughter. Fortunately we have a marvelous daughter-in-law and a granddaughter I can spoil.
Leave a comment to enter to win this darling Amish-made potholder that got me thinking on the subject. Plus, the winner will receive a signed copy of one of the books from The Legacy of Lancaster Trilogy: Leaving Lancaster, Pennsylvania Patchwork, or Forever Amish. USA and Canada. Winner has one week to respond.