When I learned I was expecting a son, several of my girlfriends with little boys told me there was something special about raising a son. I dismissed it at the time, assuming they were referring to the same over-the-moon feeling I felt in raising my daughter, but it turns out they were right. There is something special about the relationship between mother’s and sons.
I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is that feels different. I love my children equally. I adore them as individuals… but I have watched a distinctly original bond form my son since his birth. Suddenly I understand where the term “mama’s boy” comes from.
I tried to explain this to my husband and he agreed that he felt different responsibilities for our children. “I feel a responsibility to protect our daughter whereas my responsiblity towards Arlo makes me want to lead him to become a good man by example” he explained.
I’m not sure that what I feel is so cut and dry. All I know is that there is some magical element to raising a son. A specific sort of wonder. Those friends who said that there was something special about raising a little boy were right… I just wish I could put my finger on what it is.