I have a wonderful, honest and innocent blue eyed little four year old boy. His name is Cash and every day I can look into his eyes and see his wheels spinning about taking the world by storm. I’m sure that every other mother of a little boy can see this happen as well. It’s like it’s bred chemically into them. One day they are learning how to lift their head and in the next instant they are reaching for a truck. “Vroom” noises are a part of them. They aren’t taught. Throwing balls and rough housing are second nature, as is the pride in their smile when they reach down and realize they have a penis. It’s surreal how thin of a line there actually is between little men and big men, and that’s why I’m trying to teach my son that doing some “feminine” things isn’t a bad thing at all. I want him to be a well rounded individual and I want to teach him to not have a closed mind to certain things. Girls and boys have every right to do the same things, and if he doesn’t enjoy it I’m hoping he can learn to respect it. Here are some ways I try to keep things even Steven around our household.

I Love You… All The Time

One of the things that I have learned along the way is to say I love you as much as you can, you never know what can happen tomorrow. Even when my dad stops in for a coffee we hug and say I love you every time he leaves. My son is now involved in this rule. He tells his grandmas and grandpas I love you whenever they leave, which to me is very important. The more it’s instilled in him now,the more I’m hoping its still there when he’s a teenager and more importantly, a parent himself. My husband isn’t a huge “I love you” guy when it comes to his parents. He’s just a quiet guy. Sometimes I want to yell “you’re robbing your mother of important I love you’s!!!” With that being said, little Cash is more than compensating for him. When he was a baby and they would be going out the door I would hold the baby out like he was Simba from the Lion King, chasing them yelling “love you grandma and grandpa”. His grandpa isn’t the kissiest man, but when you are being chased with a baby you stop and give the baby a kiss. And they still do to this day. And I’m hoping it never stops.

Pink Isn’t Just For Girls

Pink is just a color in our home. It has no gender association. My son has always been allowed to pick out things that he wants. If that means a pink seahorse, then awesome. I had a conversation with my husband when I was pregnant about this. I don’t want to hear the phrase “that’s a girl color” ever. What does that even mean? I’m a girl and I don’t own a copyright to the color pink, red or purple. My husband is completely on board with this and always has been. He’s been known to rock the shit out of a pink shirt or two, although I should point out that he looks like a mad bearded bear so no one is probably going to mock him on his shirt color of choice. My son notices these things though, and if its cool with daddy it’s cool with him.

Girls Are Superheros Too

I have always read to my son. I started when he was three months old and have never stopped. He also has a lot of family members that are suckers for his sweet face, so when he wanders up asking “want to read with me?” No one says no. Uncles, grandparents and aunties all fall for his charms and its awesome to watch. His favorites are animal books, extra points if they are about giraffes. He has every kind of book though, and one day I realized a lot had to do with boys, ball and trucks. So I started buying boy AND girl books. By this I mean where a little girl is the heroine. Much like the story where the little boy lost his puppy, it was interesting for him to see that little girls lost their puppy’s too. Or that the giraffe in the jungle looking for their mom was a little girl giraffe. I wanted him to take notice that little boys and little girls go through a lot of the same things. I was pleased to see that it wasn’t lost on him. It’s good for him to see a little girl save the day or find her own puppy. We all fight the same asshole dog struggle, no matter your gender lol.

Dance… Dance Your Ass Off

My son and I have always had dance parties together. Ever since he could stand holding onto the coffee table and bend his little knees bouncing up and down to the rhythm. Even if we don’t have a lot of time that day, we will still kick a five minute jam fest out. Every. Day. He listens to every kind of music ever made. “Girl” music and “boy” music. Anything with a beat and the boy is yelling “booty booty booty” and shaking his butt around. Even to Fleetwood Mac… maybe even especially to Fleetwood Mac. My husband is not a dancer at all believe it or not, his wife however can hold her own lol. He has a very specific music taste. It’s a very masculine and metal musical selection, but he grits his teeth when his son finds a Britney Spears jam that he wants to dance to and never fails to tell him how fabulous of a dancer he is. Even when the song is making his ears bleed.

Mother-Son Bonding Time

My husband worked away on the road all the time when our son was growing up. I was the hands on caretaker. I’m also a woman. So my son grew up thinking that certain things were amazing. For one, my jewelry. Anything that had a sparkle to it he was into. I would literally wake up in the morning and find him sitting in my bed covered from head to toe in my jewelry. Rings, necklaces, bracelets. Nothing was safe. “Look mum mum! Look at the handsomes!”he would yell with glee. Obviously feeling very special and very fancy. His second favorite thing to get into was my makeup. I once came across so much loose powder on my brand new laid flooring that when you would step on a piece a “poof” of glittery powder would escape from it. Even after three washings. I have lost many a lipstick to his wily ways. Once, red lipstick was smeared across brand new white bedding, baseboards, doors and freshly painted walls. I will give him this, he’s thorough. So now when I do my makeup, he pulls up a chair and we chat. He wants to pick out what I wear for makeup ( its usually purple, thanks but no thanks Cash) and its something we do together. He doesn’t look at it as a “girl” thing. He looks at it as a “mum mum” thing. It’s like coloring on your face. How is that not fun?!? When I paint my nails he wants one nail painted. Always in yellow, and I always oblige. I don’t see the harm. The way I see it is that its better if I do it rather than he sneaks into the bathroom and tries to do it himself, dumping nail polish on everything in sight. He would. I know his style.

His Own Discretion

When it comes to t.v time, we have always allowed our son to watch what he chooses to. Whether it be a cartoon, or a regular show. As long as the language is ok then he doesn’t have too many boundaries put on him. Oddly enough, some of his favorites are Face Off, a show about movie monster prosthetics, and man vs wild, a show about how to survive in the wild. We have put so many Face Off hours in that my husband and I can’t stand it anymore. Cash however, still loves it and therefore still watches it every day. He understands that its a competition and he understands that there are both men and women competing in it. He wants everyone to win. For him, he doesn’t side with someone because they are a boy. If your monster looks like shit then he wants you booted off the show. Plain and simple.

Dress Up

Halloween is my favorite time of the year. I live it. I breathe it. And if you’re my friend, you have no choice but to begrudgingly come along for the ride. I will hunt you down and find you, dress you up, and haul your ass out whether you like it or not. My son is also in the hunt you down category. His first Halloween hit when he was only three months old. We dressed him as a pug. He screamed the whole time. We took pictures of him screaming. What a fun night. Since then he has also been a walrus, giraffe, Yoda, Scooby Doo and Prince Charming. Yes I realize he’s only four, but like every true Halloween freak he does a costume change. One costume will never do. Since then we have added a mexican wrestling mask, transformer helmets, knight helmets, bunny ears, Santa hats, chest plates, pirate wear and so much more to his dress up supply. He dresses me up, he mixes my stuff with his, he has a fun time. Who doesn’t want to see a knight wearing a boho hat while covered in necklaces and the knights mom in a Mexican wrestling mask, glittery bracelets and carrying two swords? The point is, whether its a Yoda wig or one of his moms hats, he thinks of it all as dress up. He’s fun, he’s innocent, and he’s down for a dress up party. He doesn’t look at the girl or boy aspect of it.

Artists Use Sparkles

If its a boring day, a lot of the times we will do some arts and crafts. We make everything from sparkly butterflies and fairies to play dough cookies and treats. He’s an equal opportunist. He wants to color a butterfly as much as he wants to color a dinosaur. I have my own Barbie coloring books because I don’t want to color a damn dinosaur, and he overtook those too. He doesn’t care. Coloring to him is coloring. Unless its a giraffe you’re coloring, then he will push you down the stairs to take that book from you. To him, it’s not about what you’re making. It’s just the actual act of making it that he enjoys.

I know some of these things might seem off kilter to you. You might judge me on the ways that I parent, but I’ve never done this before. I’m just trying to do the best for him. I want him to be a boy that can have friends that are girls and know how to treat them fairly. Being a good person doesn’t apply to a certain gender. It applies to every gender. I want him to apply that to his life sooner than later. And if he ends up being a jerk and I find out about it, at least I have a lot of dress up photo evidence that can get him to cool his jets real quick.

xo Stephanie