Boy was I glad I had a boy

I’m about to speak a truth that may raise a few eyebrows.

Ready for this????

I am so fucking grateful to the universe I had a SON.

 I know, I know buthear me out. If you know me in real life than you know I am all about thesimple things. I love hunting and riding the Ranger and horses and dirt. I lovebeing in a garden and getting dirty. I don’t wear makeup and I own about 500 t-shirts,12 pairs of jeans and several pairs of boots. I have no heels and you will haveto look very hard to find a dress. I was born and raised in the Deep Southhowever nothing in my house is monogramed. Nothing. I feel like I may havefailed the Southern woman at some point with that one. So let me be clear, Iwould have no idea what to do with a puffy dressed girl child. Nothing.

I nod my head in recognition to the women who can handle a girl child. Hell, my Mom was one of them. But let it be known I can rock the fuck out of raising a boy. Here is a fun one for you. My Grandmother always tried to get me into dresses. She would get the fluffy pink cute dress and try to make me put it on. I liked nothing more than to rip it off and put on my overalls. Then climb the magnolia tree in the front yard so she couldn’t get me. I’m pretty sure that lady wanted to kill me more than once.  

Now flash forward to college. I went to an Ag school. Iended up at Mississippi State in the wait for it……


Yep it’s a real thing. Go ahead. Look it up, I’ll wait………….

See, told ya.

Now I loved my course of study. Not only did everyone in theclass have multiple job offers before we graduated 90% of the course work wasoutside! I got to hang out on South Farm most of my day and handle liveanimals. It was one of the best things that had ever happened to me. Hell, Ieven found my best friend there!! She is just a shorter version of me. (One dayI am going to have her on the podcast to talk about training horses so keep aneye out for that.) Here is the thing though, you can’t be a true girly girl anddo what we did. There were feathers and poop and blood and stuff I still don’t knowwhat it was. And I was happy doing it. In the years I was there I never steppedinto a nail salon.

Now let’s head into now. It took three years to get pregnant with boy child. Three long years. Would I have been happy having a girl? You bet your ass. Would I have been twice as scared? You bet your ass again. See to me this boy has been so stinking easy to handle. Sure he has his moments, we all do. But he is just so even tempered and kind. I thank the universe on the daily he is like he is. I also thank goodness I do not have the pressures girl moms have. Pretty pictures in dresses with big bows? Nope.

I’m more of a take a picture while my child is covered in mud kinda mom. Check out my Instagram if you don’t believe me. Lots of pictures of dirt on there! Now this post was never meant to talk down to girl moms. I see you ladies and y’all are amazing!! This is more about me and why I love my son. Because let’s face it I am 99% more likely to go play in the dirt pile than I am to play princess tea. And that is just who I am.

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