by Melissa Cavanaugh

Created on: January 09, 2009

Humor: Raising Boys

Did you ever dream about what your life would be like someday? Think back to your childhood, when life was a brand-new, empty book just waiting for experiences and years to fill its pages crisp,stark-white pages. Did you dream that you would become a doctor, an astronaut? I remember thinking about my life, how I would grow up to be beautiful and glamorous, living in a New York City penthouse apartment, working an amazing and fabulous job. Someday, I would marry a handsome prince-like man, and we'd have a beautiful baby girl.

Reality is always a bit different than fantasy. My aunt and uncle raised three boys. I remember visiting them, and feeling such sorrow over the fact that my Aunt Rose had three sons to raise, and not a daughter in sight. I thought to myself - how could this be possible? How could God strike her with such a curse as having to raise THREE BOYS? Such a plight seemed unfair and downright torturous.

Fast forward a few years. I met my husband when I was a teen. He was the youngest of three boys as well! I loved spending time with his mom, because I knew she had great hopes of someday having a son marry a nice girl, giving her a daughter-in-law. Such a great feeling I had, knowing I would soon be "the" girl in the family for her!

Continue on a few more years. When I was expecting my first baby, I had thoughts of a beautiful blue-eyed little girl who would be dressed in the finest soft pinks! I dreamed of dressing her up and the pretty little ringlets in her hair. However, I was surprised to discover, during an ultrasound, that I was having a boy. I admit feelings of disappointment did flood me at first. However, my son was born, and I loved him so much that thoughts of having a daughter were gone. Who could've love that little tiny boy, who needed love and care?

This entire sequence played itself out again as son #2 was born, and then finally, son #3. We realized this was it for our family, no more children, meaning - no daughters. I have grown to love and cherish the fact that I will never see a baby doll (unless Lego Bionicles count?), never go to a ballet recital for a child (I've seen my share of baseball games and screamed from the bleachers with the best of them), or comb pretty curls in my daughter's hair (while trying to comb a 5-year-old's hair, I was told - Mom! I don't want to look like that kid from Barney!). Life is exactly the opposite of what I thought it would be.

Boys don't come with instruction manuals. They seem

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