Eamon Turns Two and is Pretty Much a Boy

The day after tomorrow, my son will turn 2. Without question, he brought something into my life that was absolutely missing prior to his birth. He really has been a lot of fun to raise and I am just as smitten with him as he is with me. That baby knew who his mama was immediately and has been so attached from the start. He prefers his mama; his daddy is a close second. He is a charmer and a Romeo and I am still surprised when he busts his moves out and uses them on ladies at the doctor's office or the mall. Those dimples and curls are difficult to ignore.

Often, you will hear parents say that their son is "all boy." I would say my son is "pretty much a boy." You will not find my son paying any attention to sports on TV or out in the yard playing with a ball or a car. I mean, you might; it would just be rare. He's more of your "into everything" kind of boy. He is interested in how things work. He likes to play with doors and locks and loves to push buttons. He can climb any structure in our home. I guess that in these respects, he is "all boy." However, the dynamic of having 2 older sisters and a mom who stays at home have most certainly taken their toll on my poor son. We have no doubt robbed him of some masculinity with all of the pink objects and make believe princess stories. We certainly have not discouraged boy-type enterprises. We have trucks and cars and balls. Regardless, it seems like my son would choose a dance party over a choo-choo train; trying on shoes over a pretend sword fight.

Recently, I have noticed that my son is quite the caretaker when it comes to his sisters. He absolutely adores Sawyer. That is not to say that he doesn't fancy Madeline as well. He does. He just prefers Sawyer. They spend all day together and I am beginning to notice that Sawyer is clearly calling all of the shots. In the past week, I have seen my poor son scoot Sawyer in at the table on at least 10 occasions. He will get her a drink of water on command. He brings her blankie (dee-dee) to her when she is upset. He sits by her as she cries. He puts his arm around her to comfort her. He finds her her shoes when it is time to leave the house. He is, without a doubt her personal servant. Yesterday when she spilled yogurt, he got up to get her a towel. I let Sawyer know that encouraging Eamon to wait on her would be frowned upon. She cleaned up her own mess. Shortly thereafter, she spilled her water and ice. He cleaned up all of the pieces of ice and wiped up the water. Seriously.

On another note, my son has a bit of a shoe issue. In the last couple of weeks, when I tell him to get his shoes on- he puts Cinderella dress up high heels on. And walks to the bus stop. In a very stable fashion. With the proudest of looks on his face. It is hysterical. Of course, I have no problem with my son exploring the various sides of his personality but, just as it is not acceptable to wear dress up shoes to the mall for my daughters- it is not acceptable for my son. And he is quite angry about these types of restrictions. He doesn't care what clothes he wears. He just wants his high heels. They are blue, by the way.

As I think about this tender-hearted little boy, I have to wonder about the dynamics of our family. I'm sure that having 2 older sisters has an effect on a little boy. Then I start to wonder about DNA. My husband is also a bit of a tender heart. He cried at Patch Adams. The story is infamous among his dental school buddies. Then I wonder how much his behavior toward his sisters models Jason's behavior toward me. Today, a friend who is a nanny down the street brought her young charge to a play date at our house. She commented on how attached Eamon is to me and how he appears to be "the sensitive type." I am always surprised to find that my son is the sensitive one. This is not to say that the girls are not sensitive. They are sensitive little drama queens in every way. But Eamon is sensitive and caring. With this degree of sensitivity, I predict that some day Eamon will make a great husband and friend. Heaven knows that he is already a doting brother and more endearing a son than I could have ever imagined.