Boys Will Be Boys

I've been getting a little flack from a few friends who have noticed that Henry has some nail polish on his fingernails. If you ask Henry about it, he'll proudly show you the red on his nails and the glitter on his toes. I'll admit it. I painted his fingernails. The girls and I were doing ours nice and red for 4th of July and Henry wasn't going to be left out. So I took the brush and quickly dabbed, dabbed, dabbed a little red across each nail on his chubby hands. That was all he wanted. I didn't sit there and paint them to perfection like I did for the girls. Just a little dot on each nail to make him feel a part of things. He was thrilled with that. What's the big deal?

This wasn't the first time I've painted his nails. I'm sure it won't be the last either. I'll admit to letting him take one of the girls baby dolls to bed at nap time when he can't seem to part with it. So what if he wants to wear the fairy wings when the girls bring out the dress ups? I'm okay that he likes the pink Sleeping Beauty high heels. They do make a fun noise on wood floors.

I guess I could feel bad about doing these things. Some may. But regardless of what I have allowed in the "girly department", Henry is as boy as they come. I don't worry for a second. Everything can be used as a gun. No matter what he's holding, he will still point it at you and shoot you with it. It makes Gwen cry every time. And even when he has nothing in his hands, he can still turn around in his chair and race his fingers along the back as a race car. Anything he finds can be turned into something with a motor. Even in church, when we have no toys, he still makes racing noises. I can't tell him to hush, because he'll rev the engine and make it louder and faster.

And from the moment Joe walks in the door, there is tackling and wrestling. When Henry gets real excited and is overcome with joy about something, he likes to punch you with a huge smile stretched across his face. Like "men" do, you know? He's rough and tumble. He can fall hard, wipe out, scrap his knees, bump his head, and not shed a tear. When he does cry though, all he wants is a hug.

I guess my point is, boys will be boys. My family sure is filling up with them. I love the three of them with all my heart. Even with red fingernails.