Raising a boy: what I didn't expect. (So far.)

I didn't expect it to be so very different from raising a girl.

I didn't expect him to have so much trouble learning to speak. I didn't expect to worry about the autism spectrum and where on it some of his behaviors may lie. I didn't expect him to ignore me so much of the time. I didn't expect him to refuse to kiss, but present his cheek instead.

I didn't expect that boy poopy diapers would be so much easier to deal with than girl poopy diapers. I didn't expect him to learn his letters and numbers all in one shot, before learning to speak or even sing the alphabet.  I didn't expect him to have a happy-naked-run that cracked me up this much. I didn't expect to have to learn the tongue-twister, "Wonder Pets Underpants."

I didn't expect that he would need me as much as he does when he does, or as little as he does when he doesn't. I didn't expect to become a mind-reader. I didn't expect that he would have fears of swings and riding toys. I didn't expect that breastfeeding would be so hard for the two of us.

I didn't expect him to look so much like me. I didn't expect to love his little facial expressions that remind me of my little brother at that age. I didn't expect him to love his cousins and friends so much that he feels the need to tackle-hug them on sight.

I didn't expect him to have a need to rub people's earlobes. I didn't expect him to still need to snuggle to sleep at this age.

I think I did expect, though I didn't fully comprehend, how much I would love him and love being his mom.