Is having a boy different, you ask? For Nana Appiah-Korang


You asked me a few months ago to let you know how different it is to have a boy after having two girls. Your son’s conception, like mine, was unplanned. In FACT, my brother refers to my son as “False Start”, as he was not due until June of 2010. But he’s here now, and that’s all that matters!

Now that the boy is nearly 3 months old, I feel that I have enough time spent with him under my belt to appropriately answer your query. Yes, there is TOTAL difference. Let me lead you in by saying this:

There is a reason the last 3 or 4 generations of men have been hedonistic, narcissistic douche bags, and it’s because of women like me…and the men who leave women, with similar behavioral patterns to mine, to raise boys. THERE IS NOTHING MY BOY CAN DO WRONG.

The first 2 weeks he was home he peed on me a total of 8 times, including a chest shot and a whiz between my legs. I delight in every soiled diaper, even if it’s at the expense of a new dress that I’ve worn only once. He’s not permitted to cry more than 43 seconds. When I feel something hot and runny coursing down my back, the alarm I feel after being unwittingly puked on turns to joy when I see that milky grin on his face. The other night my husband put his foot down and said the boy MUST sleep in his bassinet from now on, and not in the bed with us. You should never sleep with your baby, I know, but we have a super-king size bed, big enough for 4 people. If HE (Marshall) would move his country fed self over to the left some, then maybe my boy would have more room without fear of being crushed! I had perfected the art of sleeping perfectly still…why couldn’t Marshall??? All these thoughts raced through my mind, until I found myself about to suggest that MARSHALL go downstairs and sleep on the sofa bed so that Stone and I could get a good night’s sleep without his grumbling about “safety”.

I felt these things, in appropriate moderation, for my girls, but I can unequivocally say I did not delight in changing their poo soiled layettes. In FACT, I am pissed that at the ages of 4 1/2 and 3 they do not get all the stains out of their little cracks after taking a poo, and am ashamed to say that I will happily check behind my boy at the age of 23 if he needed me too. That’s what’s wrong with these men today. They think they can take a crap all over women and they’re just supposed to take it and like it. It’s my fault, and I don’t care. There is no shame in ruining your boy with your love, because it’s his DAD’S job to toughen him up and lead him on the straight and narrow. It’s why the Spartans separated sons and mothers at age 10 to sent them to warrior training camp. A mother like me is sure to raise a punk. And it doesn’t help that other women coo and fuss over him and give him pet names as well. One lady said his smile and demeanor helped brighten her whole day and made her forget that she was on medication.

“He’s a healer!” she proclaimed. And no, that “he” was not Jesus Christ, but my mere mortal son Stone.

So, if you find yourself confused by this new range of emotions and subject to some level of disregard for your girls’ well-being, take comfort in the fact that you are married to a wonderful man who is there to cover your back and take up your slack; whose JOB it is to turn the boy into a man. It’s the only thing that lets me rest easy at night when I fall asleep holding my own dear boy in my arms.