What I have to look forward to.

What I've Learned About Men (and myself) by Raising Boys
By Dana Loesch

There's a quote by an actress who said that she learned so much more about men by having sons. I am a woman who grew up the only child of a tidy, overly-effeminate mother who swears by Clinique. I used to wear dresses with black patent-leather Mary Janes and red bows in my hair.

My boy cousins were messy, farted way too much, ate constantly, ran everywhere and climbed on everything. They were totally alien to me, and that pretty much concluded what I knew of boys. So when Chris and I discovered that we were expecting, I just assumed that we would have a girl. However, nature thought it would be super hilarious to give me not one, but two little boys.

Not that I don't love my little boys, I adore my sons, I am STUPID in love with them. It was just that I'm a girl. I know all about girl things, like how all little girls love tiaras and tutus. I knew nothing about boys.

Five years later I find myself completely surrounded by men. I am the minority in my household, the only woman. As a result, I've learned a lot. I've learned that farts, apparently, are unbelievably hysterical. I was taught to be embarrassed if my body betrayed me vocally in public, not to hoot about it and yell "Did you hear how loud that was? DID YOU HEAR THAT? Yeah, that was me!" High five!

I've learned that it is completely acceptable in the male world to brag about the size of whatever you deposited into the toilet, as well as walk out of the bathroom and beg for people to come see it, as the little boys do in my house. More high fives! It took one time for me to fall backwards into the toilet at 3 a.m. before I began to look and make sure the seat was down first.

I've learned that two-thirds of the household majority will pass by a dropped object on the floor 4,399,221 times BEFORE stopping to ask what it's doing there instead of picking it up. The one-third stops only because he thinks that it's something to eat and will hurriedly shove it in his mouth before anyone sees him.

I've learned that anything can be made into a gun or a lightsaber. This goes for wooden spoons, clothes hangers, toothbrushes and the tampon from my purse as I was loading groceries onto the conveyor belt. I've learned that boys do not come programmed with fear or a sense for boundaries for the sole purpose of balancing out their mothers' fear for them.

I've learned that you can never have too many Matchbox cars.

I don't think twice anymore about covering my cut finger or scratched arm with a Spider-Man Band-Aid, because they were the ones Chris and Liam thought were the coolest. I've learned that rites of passage are completely different for boys than they are for girls. Standing up to go to the bathroom for the first time is a huge deal.

I've learned that I cannot sit in the floor without being tackled and wrestled to the ground. The floor is the red zone and by sitting on it you are non-verbally consenting to WWE.

I've learned that little boys love to climb, be it the couch, the chair, the bookcase, their beds, the toilets, or into the refrigerator. I've heard that little girls are born with PMS; I've learned that little boys are born with a predilection to throw things and run full-speed down steep hills. I've learned that when a little boy gets a cool toy for a present, the dad is just as excited to play with it as the boy.

I've learned that these characteristics never really go away, even with age, and that having sons gives a dad a chance to relive some of his childhood. Raising sons has caused me to forget how I used to want a daughter. I've learned that boys follow their daddies' examples. Liam regularly tells me, in his spastic munchkin voice, that I "look like a princess" whenever I get ready to go anywhere. He didn't just figure out how to give compliments like that by himself.

I love how he opens doors (or will try) for me and other women. I love how when our entire household tears through the house playing and rough-housing, Liam designates himself as my official protector. "I'LL SAVE YOU MOM!" he'll yell, while throwing his little body in front of mine and pretending to shoot Chris (the designate Bad Alien) with a "laser beam gun." I love playing in dirt now.

Another thing I love, a lesson learned, is that I've made amends with men (and my history with them) by having sons. I've learned what it is to be a woman. And not to ignore the daddies, because they're just as valuable -- does it ever take a strong woman to raise a man.