I always wanted a boy.
I had reoccurring dreams that I had a baby boy for as long as I can remember.
On September 27, 2014, at 7:04 in the morning, that dream became a reality.
For one year, I have learned all about the completely different species that is the male. If Rory rocked my world, Owen done threw my snow-globe life into a dryer.Everything is done rougher and louder with boys. He likes to cuddle more than Rory did. And food, holy cow, he eats and eats and eats.
But this is my boy. My sweat-er. My napper. My lover of macaroni, and of cats. A goofy, naughty giggle as he runs down the hall. Flicked fingers for the 14th time that morning because he will not leave his daddy's books alone. The smell of a favorite blankie. He loves to be read to and can hear a sleeve of crackers being opened a block away.
Something happens to you when you have kids. All new instincts (mostly survival, I'm sure) kick in, new skills are learned, and new love takes root in your heart.
But something happens right down in your guts when you have a boy. Rarely am I at a loss for words about anything, but there is no description for what I am trying to convey. It's not favoritism; I love my daughter with my whole heart and she is my joy. But it's certainly different.
Happy first birthday, my Owen. You were, and are, a dream come true.