It seems like you can’t scroll through Facebook on a typical day without seeing the daily #boymom post, usually a funny little story or picture from a mom depicting the rough-and-tumble, injury-ridden, mud-slinging life with all boys. But sometimes I wonder, where are the #girlmom stories?
I currently I have one boy and one girl but I have enough experience with my three-year-old daughter to know that there are some truly hilarious and horrifying things about these little baskets of sugar and spice (side note, somebody coined the term “threenager” for a reason).
Shoutout to the parents of crazy little girls
There is a poem that I heard years ago by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, which consistently comes to mind when I think about my daughter:
There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.
Truer words could not be spoken. My baby girl can be the sweetest, cuddliest child you ever met. She loves pink, sparkles, rainbows and unicorns. She’ll draw you ten thousand pictures and loves to cook and bake yummy things with me in the kitchen.
But there is a special kind of drama in that kid. She will throw temper tantrums for absolutely no reason. My husband came home from work once and had the audacity to ask her something about her day. She proceeded to yell at him, “Daaaaaaad!” as if he’d committed some terrible offense, and turned around and ran into her room, slamming the door behind her.
The poor man looked at me, bewildered, and I didn’t’ have the heart to tell him, “wait until she is twelve.”
“My vagina is burping”
When she is mad at you, boy do you know it. She has a scowl you could not imagine, well maybe you do if you have one these kinds of kids, and will walk around the house looking like she’s trying to set you on fire with her eyes.
And the things that come out of her mouth. Have mercy. My son is not the one I worry about when we’re in public, it’s my daughter.
I don’t know how many times I’ve spoken with her about not talking about mommy’s boobies and other private matters. Yet one time she was laying next to me on the couch making burping noises. When I asked her what she was doing she responded, “My vagina is burping!” Needless to say I first thanked the Lord that there was nobody else around to hear that, and then had a talk about appropriate and inappropriate joking.
All this to say, where are you #girlmoms? I want to hear your stories and I especially want to know, am I alone here?
