girl vs. boy

Now that a good two-and-a-half months has passed since we found out we forever will be a family with both a little boy and a darling girl, it has hit me: I now know why people say "boys are easier."

I used to think that statement was so sad because it always came from parents of both boys and girls. How horrible for their baby girls to hear such a thing! But now I get it. It has nothing to do with the fact that girls, in comparison to boys, are notoriously accompanied by an inordinate amount of sass, nor the fact that little ladies have rendered {unfairly so, because some mom's may like to play dress up with their sons...} the reputation of costing a pretty penny as they grow older {ie. - my parents probably could have taken out a second mortgage based on how much dough they shelled out to send my sister and I to those outrageous high school dances... A new set of acrylic nails was always a must. Sick, man}.

Anyway, to me, the reason people say boys are easier is because when you think of raising a little man, you think of football, trucks, Buzz Lightyear and playing in dirt. Bugs, race cars, mommy-son-cuddle-time and fist pounds with daddy. Wearing precious Vans and blue jeans.
You see yourself having conversations like...

What was that, my boy? You don't like sports? THAT'S OKAY, SON! We will just enroll you in some awesome academic club! No matter what, we will find something for you to love! Easy peasy!

It will all work out.

Yes, there is the whole "I need to raise my son to be a good man" thing, but surely all the hours of tossing around the football, making choo-choo sounds and dropping him off in Sunday school each week will result in  an upstanding sort of adult, right?

Anyway, obviously it's all much, much deeper than that, but it just seems like it will be such fun. 

Breezy.

Our little boy will grow up to be a great man, and the path to that point will be riddled with fun activities.

But holy moly, when I think of raising Kota, I become intimidated.

Not because I'm scared that one day she will take a misstep, because I know that will happen, but because of the things I need to teach her.

To raise a virtuous young lady will take more than just bi-weekly pedicures, it will take an incredible amount of intentional parenting. Specific steps will need to be taken in order to cultivate an atmosphere free of animosity between the two of us, an atmosphere where there's more listening going on, rather than talking at each other. I want her to grow and be aware of the intricacies of being a daughter, sister, eventual friend, and someday, a woman. To be kind, loving, soft-hearted, compassionate, genuine and strong. To love God and Jesus and Mary. To have the strength to stand up against peer pressure, and to blaze her own, unique path.
To me, it's overwhelming how much I want this for her.

It will be the challenge of my life, one I'm more than ready to take on.
Open communication will be the route we will take to get through the rough times that are sure to come with these bambinos, and we will become all the better for it.

So every night I pray for the strength to put these thoughts into action, because, in the words of good ole' Jackie Kennedy, "If you bungle raising your children, I don't think whatever else you do matters very much."

And ain't that the truth, sister?