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Being A Mama's Boy Ain't So Bad… Is It?

Proud Mama

There is something undeniably special about dads and daughters. Conversely, there is something so sweet about boys and their mamas.

Mama’s boy.

It can be a huge bummer to date a mama’s boy, that’s for sure. Been there done that. But if his mama done raised him right, it can be the greatest thing ever. Have you ever noticed that boys with several sisters seem more in tune with the needs and emotions of women?

I am so overjoyed to be the mama of this little boy. My heart is so full. Not a day goes by that I don’t marvel at this sweet feller that found his way to me. ME. I will be his mama forever. I daydream about what he’ll be like in the future and hope that I have the ability to mold him into the kind of man any mama would be proud to call son.

There aren’t many photos of me and my HenryBoy. Mostly because I still feel off since giving birth and haven’t wanted to document this particular time. And then I realized how stupid that is. Screw that. I want as many photos of me and my boy as possible. Take all the photos you can!  Even if you feel like crap.  That said, here then, are some of my favorite mom/Henry photos coupled with some stuff I’ve written about my lil’ sweetheart.


  • It’s A Boy 1 of 11
    It's A Boy
    So anyway, the technician is grinning like a fool and points to a black spot between two appendage looking things and says "See there. See? Do you know what you're having now?" And I look and I don't see a damn thing and since I don't see a damn thing I say "A girl? I'm having a girl!" He smiles then laughs. "Nope." Turns out THERE IS A PENIS IN MY BODY AT THIS VERY MOMENT! I saw it! Serge is already saying it looks unusually large and the technician wisely agreed.
  • The Milk Bar Is Open, Again 2 of 11
    The Milk Bar Is Open, Again
    Sometimes, when he cries and his diaper isn't messy and nothing obvious seems to be wrong I'll whip out the old boob and he bellies up to the milk bar and gets his drink on. I'm starting to feel like a bartender on call 24/7, which, I guess that's pretty much the definition of breastfeeding but I'm becoming increasingly concerned I'm ruining his "meal" with my "snacks". Like a real bartender, do I need to cut the little guy off?
  • Keeping Each Other Warm 3 of 11
    Keeping Each Other Warm
    I can hear the thrum of the furnace as it kicks on. Good, it's cold tonight, I think as I reflexively reach down and clutch my son's tiny feet in one hand. His socks have fallen off for the third or fourth time tonight. I'm glad he's tucked in beside me so I can keep him warm.
  • So Tired It Hurts 4 of 11
    So Tired It Hurts
    You know that feeling? When you're so tired it actually hurts? When you're so tired and the babe - God bless him - gets to snuffling and snorting for the billionth time and sitting up to check on him and readjust his damned pacifier seems like the hardest thing in the world? It's that feeling that caused me to pull him up onto bed with me where he sticks his little face right into mine and is the only human in the history of the universe who actually seems to enjoy my morning breath! He loves it. Turns his sweet face right into mine and inhales like he's in a perfume factor, sighs contentedly and then BAM. He's asleep.
  • I Think He’s Doing It On Purpose 5 of 11
    I Think He's Doing It On Purpose
    The little dude farts louder than Serge and poops, like, every ten minutes. I think he's effing with me, I really do. I'll change his diaper, cream up his buns and powder his balls (now I understand why some men have that baby fetish thing) and just when I get the damn onesie all buttoned up his face turns purple, he grunts and there is the unmistakable sound of bowels unleashing. And - I swear to god - he grins at me. Could Serge be teaching him this crap?
  • A Boob Man Fo Sho 6 of 11
    A Boob Man Fo Sho
    Never, not even in my randy college days has there been so much pawing at my chest and sucking on my nipples. Leave it to a boy. Violet could go either way, bottle or boob. But the little man is all about the big boobs. Typical.
  • Working It Out 7 of 11
    Working It Out
    Dude. I cannot figure out how I'm going to grocery shop. The logistics seem more difficult than landing a 747 after the pilot suffers a heart attack. Yes, Violet goes in the cart seat but Henry's car seat only fits in the basket. So where do the groceries go? The only way I can envision grocery shopping is when Henry is big enough to fit into our Bjorn. I guess I could try my hand at all the other kinds of baby wearing out there but - oh my god - those wraps and slings and all manner of baby carrying material type items seem more difficult to figure out than a Rubik's Cube.
  • One Of Those Boys 8 of 11
    One Of Those Boys
    It is becoming painfully obvious lately that Henry is one of those boys. He cannot sit still. Dude is only pushing 4 months and he is already trying to leap tall buildings in a single bound, Bungee jump off bridges and stuff like that. I am so screwed. Once this feller realizes that those things attached to his ankles actually help him get to Things That Are Not To Be Touched more quickly than heaving his body in the general direction of where he wants to be, well, my life will be over.
  • Calgon? Are You There? 9 of 11
    Calgon?  Are You There?
    Between getting Violet in the tub and oh, Henry's crying, hold on Violet, it's okay Henry, and then back to Violet to play with tub toys and later the requisite whining when I tell her it's time to wash her hair and oh, Henry's hungry, play with your toys while mama sits here and feeds Henry, okay Violet let's get you dressed and by that time an hour has passed and I haven't even started with Henry yet and Calgon! Take someone away!
  • Too Soon! 10 of 11
    Too Soon!
    Oh man. I am so screwed. This little guy is hours away from crawling. Time to haul out all the baby gates because before I know it dude is going to be climbing stairs. Too soon! What's next, hiding the car keys so he can't sneak out at night?
  • Thank You 11 of 11
    Thank You
    The other night I just marveled at what an awesome boy you are and, as I cuddled you to my chest, I talked out loud, telling you how unbelievably lucky I am to get to be your mama. Because I am your mama forever. Nothing can ever change that. No matter what happens I will always be your mama and you and your sister will always, always be my babies. Thank you.

Raising boys? A dad’s parenting advice for moms

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