This is my son Sam. He is my only son and quite the project to me.
He has a twin sister, Emma Kate.
He usually adores her.
He also has an older sister, Caroline.
As a mother and a girly-girl, I get the girls. I understand their need to wear princess dresses, stick-on earrings, and high heels. I know that they want to take their babies with them when we go to Target and I know that they like pink sprinkles on their toast and yogurt. I also can identify with them when they eat the red gummy bears first and argue over who gets the sippy cup with the dark pink lid versus the light pink lid. This all makes sense to me. Sam on the other hand is a mystery. I don't get it. I don't understand sports and the many rules involved. I don't understand how he can have fun just holding a ball or a car (but I am happy to buy them for him). I don't quite know how to play with him or always talk to him (Matthew tells me I baby him). I just sort of follow his lead.
So imagine my joy when I was in the kitchen making brownies and he asked to help. I felt like I really 'got' him. "This isn't so different" I thought. I taught him how to pour in the eggs and turn on the mixer....this is just like baking with the girls, right? Whew! I can do this! I understand having a boy. He is no mystery! Boys aren't that different. What a relief!
or so I thought...