All boy

Society's pretty funny. Not just ours, either, but the nature of the beast of culture. The perfect paradox: culture is, on the one hand, this external construct, partially arbitrary, partially linked to our environment. On the other hand, culture is biologically mandated; our hard-wired biology for behavior is incomplete, and we need culture to help round out our behavioral patterns.

So, gender. Boys and girls are different. Sooooooo different. But gender is a cultural construct. When Donovan runs around like a wild animal, says "vroom", or attaches to my breast like it's an oxygen tank in a vacuum, he's "all boy." And these "all boy" parts of him seem to be ALL anyone else wants to see in him. And since he's my first boy, lots of parents of boys seem to think this must be the first time I've experienced these "boy" qualities (and to tell me how to handle them or what I'm in for in the future).

Not so. Eliana remains a wild animal, and was just as avid a nurser (until my pregnancy with Kes intervened). Kes LOVED planes, trains, and automobiles. Nobody seems to hear me when I say I've seen this before.

Similarly, no one wants to hear that Donovan loves shoes and pretty fabrics. Or that he cuddles dolls with more tenderness than Eliana ever did (she had zero interest in dolls until Kes was old enough to insist that's what they were going to play together). Or that he loves to brush his hair in the mirror. And if they do listen, and sometimes in my own mind, what I hear back is, "Well, it's okay if he's gay." Yep, it is, but is it not okay to be male, straight, and feminine?

But I'll say it loud and I'll say it proud, my boy is all boy: he loves trucks, boobs, frogs, shiny pretty clothes, dolls, and kisses, and all that is my all boy.