 Snakes and snails and puppy dog tailsBy Michelle Makariak Before I had children, I would hear parents tell one another that little boys were different from little girls – in more than the obvious way – and I would always think "Yeah!right!" It was hard for me to believe boys and girls were fundamentally different from the get go. I did not believe in that whole "Hunter / Gatherer" theory. Well, to all the parents I ever looked at doubtfully when they described the horrors of raising little boys when compared to little girls, I most humbly beg your pardon. Little boys are, indeed! different. Let me elaborate: My daughter, Adriaan, never, ever, lifts a finger to touch something she shouldn’t. She understands the word "No", and has since she was a baby. She loves stuffed animals and dolls, dresses, parties and hair ribbons. She loves to sit quietly and draw – for hours at a time. She loves to read, sing, play games and take bubble baths. And she hates dirt, bugs, sticky hands, and bedtime. My little boy, Collin, is an entirely different matter. He does not know the meaning of words like "No", "Slow down", "Don’t throw that!", "Don’t touch that!" and "Hot!". Collin was born running. He was born to explore. He has scaled the heights of my sofa, my counter, my stove, my refrigerator, and my mothers’ curio cabinet. He hates to sit still, would rather eat crayons at high speed than color with them, can’t stand anything stuffed (unless it’s a potato), and hates dolls. He loves balls – the harder, the better. He loves to throw balls – the harder, the better. And what he really loves to do is make my hair gray. He’s also very good at making me chase him all over the house to make sure he isn’t breaking : My husband and I call him Verb, because he is always in action. As a matter of fact, his daddy wants to buy him a Tarzan outfit – than the transformation will be complete! Don't get me wrong. I love Collin with every fiber of me being; a love so fierce and encompassing it’s sometimes hard for me to comprehend it. And I know part of the reason I love him so much is because he’s so!fearless. But I have to admit, he scares the death out of me. I worry about him constantly. I wonder what he’s doing, what part of his precious little body he’s bruised or damaged, if his hair is still blonde, or if he managed to get hold of the safety scissors again and cut it all off!. And for those of you who think I’m exaggerating, you obviously don’t have little boys, or you have little boys, but no little girls to compare them to. I sometimes think parents of only boys go into denial – either that, or they are just immune to the running, throwing, screaming, climbing, bug-squishing behavior of their sons. Collin, at least, is starting to enter the stage where you can almost reason with him – he’s one and a half years old. But I know I will never be fully relaxed again. My baby – Joshua – is going to be crawling soon, and I just know he’ll learn everything his older, wiser brother tries to teach him. L'Oreal is going to love me.
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