Girls and boys

December 9, 2011 in Amber Beery,boys,mentor moms

God didn’t give me a boy. And even though everyone says, “Girls are so different from boys” it still surprises us. My friend Amber, who is a wonderful photographer and a beautiful writer, agreed to write a guest post for me about this topic, because clearly, I have no insight in this area. Amber has three kids, one girl and two boys. Her oldest is six. She chronicles the life of her lovely family with writings and pictures over at Here..and the hope and the glory.

Girls are different from boys. No shocker there, right? My oldest child is a boy. My second is a girl. And they are different in just about every way imaginable.
My daughter Reese insists on wearing clothes that are overwhelmingly pink, with a few exceptions for purple. My son Jackson couldn’t care less about the color of his clothes, as long as they are NOT pink or sporting the colors of the University of Michigan.

Reese delights in wearing dresses. Jackson is just as delighted with jeans and a Michigan State sweatshirt. If it’s comfortable, he’ll wear it. Reese owns twice as many shoes as Jackson (and she’s only four!) and oodles of hair accessories. Jackson owns no hair accessories, other than a ball cap or two, and he’s perfectly content with his little pile of shoes.

Reese loves jewelry and tea parties. Jackson loves his BB gun and hunting. Reese draws pictures of flowers and families and trees. Jackson draws pictures of dragons and aliens.Reese loves playing dress-up and princess. Jackson wants nothing to do with the sappy, love-gushing princes in Reese’s imagination, but call him a superhero rather than a prince, and he’ll gladly accept the role of the knight in shining armor!

You get the picture! They are night-and-day different. Some of it is personality. But much of their differences come from the fact that Reese is a girl and Jackson is a boy. Reese, at heart, is a princess. She wants to be rescued and loved. Jackson, at heart, is a superhero. He wants to conquer the bad guys and win with bravery! It is who they are, how God made them.

Now my daughter doesn’t always fit the princess mold. She likes to dig in the dirt with her brother. She’s a scrapper. She holds snakes – all while wearing a dress of course! Often times only her attire resembles Cinderella. She may not be prim and proper or quiet, but she so wants to be a princess, to be loved! At four she is already talking about boyfriends, picking one out from her friends at church. She assures me that he loves her and loves God, but mostly she talks about how cute he is. I can only imagine what will happen when the four-year-old turns fourteen!
Jackson talked about getting married when he was younger. But he wanted to marry his best friend’s sister so he and his buddy could play together a lot even when they grew up! Not much interest in love or cuteness…yet!

I look at their differences, and I wonder, “What do these differences mean for me, their mom, besides paying attention to the color of the clothes I buy and knowing which Christmas presents to choose?”Part of me says, “I don’t know.” My children are six, four and two. I have a lot of learning left in the art of parenting. But I do know this. That my daughter, with her princess heart, needs love. She needs to feel treasured and valued. My actions and words must teach her that she is incredibly special to me, that God created her with a beauty in her heart that far outshines Snow White’s. I’m fairly certain boys will arrive on her horizon someday, probably much sooner than I want, so now is my time to fill her up with my love and her daddy’s love and to guide her to God’s love. I never want her to search that horizon looking for love she’s wanted but never received.
There are things I want to give my sons, too. Like respect and responsibility. Teaching them courage. Letting them be their mommy’s superhero. But since this is a princess blog, I’ll refrain from those thoughts for now!My daughter is a princess. To be loved and treasured is her deepest desire. I may not be a perfect mom, but I can do that!

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