Kemi, like “chemistry”

Random Musings of the Misunderstood

Dear Sons, April 17, 2008

Filed under: Alex,Anthony,clothes,motherhood,sick — Kemi @ 10:44 am
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Dear Sons,


     I am writing to both of you today, because you’ve been on my mind.  And, quite frankly, because I am concerned for both of you.  Thankfully I’m concerned about two separate issues, because if I had to worry about both problems for both of you, I’d be loony.  (Hush.)(I mean it!)  And a little scared.  So, Alex, I’m going to start with you.


     Alex, your eye is freaky.  FUH-REEK-EEEY.  I am equal parts shocked, horrified, grossed-out and weirdly fascinated by the shape it’s taken, the yellow stuff oozing out of it and the perfect oval-shaped area of hot redness that encircles it.  I also feel guilty that you’re hurting and that a doctor couldn’t fix it and instantly make it all better.  I apologize for gagging last night when I smelled it, while I was trying to put in your Pink Eye relief drops.  You know I have a strong stomach, but that was bad.  Baaaaad.  (I’m gagging a little bit right now, just remembering.)


     So… you have bacterial conjunctivitis.  So… you have had it several times before in your life and I just didn’t realize what it was.  You know how your eyes always get watery and goopy before you get sick?  Yeah, it was always Pink Eye.  I didn’t realize Pink Eye is nothing more than an itchy, watery eye.  I thought it was some big, scary thing like Chicken Pox or Scarlet Fever.  I’m sorry.  Luckily, it always went away on its own during the night, heralding the cavalry of cold germs and then making a hasty and cowardly retreat.  This time it’s different.  Gross, smelly, oozing, crusty, RED…  and sorta cool.  Your uncles would be proud.  You look like you went ten rounds in the ring but emerged victorious.


     Honestly, Alex, it’s a miracle you’re still alive, in spite of your mother and her gross incompetence.  Sorry, Sweetie. 


     Now, Anthony, your problem is not physical.  And in some ways that’s more worrisome.  I desperately hope that this is just a phase, and that you outgrow it QUICKLY.


     So, here’s the deal, little man:  You are a boy.  B-O-Y.  With your blue eyes, curly hair and dimples, you could easily pass for a little girl, but that is not how you came to us.  You have boy parts, boy energy, and boy charm.  Boy, boy, boy, boy, boy.  This kick about you wanting to wear dresses FREAKS. ME. OUT.


     Last week when we went shopping for Kendra’s baptism dress, you were beside yourself in the fancy-dress shop, surrounded by tulle, satin, lace and beads.  I thought it was funny (sort of) when you squeezed in-between the racks and wrapped yourself in the fabric.  I couldn’t allow it to continue, though, because those dresses cost more than a four-year degree from Harvard.  It was understandable that you wanted to try one of them on, especially after you had to sit patiently and watch your sisters model them.  And, truth be told, you looked…  um… exceptionally pretty  in that pale blue color, even with your holey-kneed jeans and camo Crocs peeking out from under the flouncy skirt.  You totally could have modeled that dress on the runway.  Except, you’re a boy.  B-O-Y, and I fear you have forgotten that.


     You now ask for a dress every time I change you out of your pajamas.  When Hannah changes clothes, you raid her drawers for sundresses and skirts, pulling them on over your clothes.  You rummage through her dress-up trunk for the tutus and fairy wands, and I could just cry.  (And NO, those are not all  tears of laughter.)


     I never thought I’d encourage this, but I’m desperate…  ANTHONY!  PLEASE MESS SOMETHING UP!  Drive your toy cars into the piano, the wall, the kitchen table…  Go play in the dirt.  Eat dog food.  Put food in your hair and resist having baths.  Wear your (jeans) until they are stiff and crusty.  You have my permission to proudly show off dirty pig feet without the threat of a thorough baby-wipe rubdown.  I am pretty much open to any previously-forbidden activity, as long as it isn’t done in a dress.  That last part is key.


     Thanks, Sons!  I love you, even if you do smell funky and enjoy cross-dressing.


This post is brought to you by the letter P (pus, Pink Eye), the letter T (tranny, toddler) and the number 2 (sons– thank goodness there aren’t more).

3 Responses to “Dear Sons,”

  1. K. Trainor Says:

    I popped over here to thank you for visiting Todays Musings, but I’m having way too much fun looking around. 🙂

    I don’t think we have to be perfect, we just have to love them more than anyone else. I’ve had a pediatrician give me the evil eye for not recognizing a double ear infection before. No symptoms except general crankiness and a mild fever, mind you. It happens. We just do the best we can.

    Our kids are little individuals with their own thoughts and feelings. If they were only little clones of us, parenting would be so much easier! Lots of little boys go through that stage. I don’t blame them–with softer fabrics and prettier colors, who wouldn’t want to check them out? Girls can wear camo, after all. Some boys outgrow it, some make other life choices. I think our job as Moms is to just love them ferociously no matter what.

    Great post!

  2. Excellent post, Kemi! My son likes our family’s tea party set and cinderella’s jelly slippers. It is not a big deal to me. I love him so much. My daughter constantly insists that the toys like firetrucks belong to the family so she gets to play with them, but that princess wands and that kind of “girl” stuff should be off-limits to her little brother. I disagree. In fact we went to Michaels and they were selling sequined star wands for $1 so I bought 2 of them. I knew my children would fight over it if I just bought one. In my opinion it’s important to let children explore fantasy and ethereal things without emphasizing gender.

  3. High Hopes Says:

    This phase shall pass. Don’t worry.

    Your description of pink eye was very vivid, kind of made me feel a little icky, particularly as it is lunch time. My dd had a bad eye infection once and it turned out to be cellulitis, it came up all of a sudden. She was fine when I went to work and the sitter called mid afternoon and I had to get home and take her to emerg. It was a good thing I did because apparently cellulitis is more than pink eye and they put her on major antibiotics and I had to call them within 24 hours if it wasn’t getting better. The doc scared the bejeebers out of me.

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