People always say raising a boy is easier than a girl. I’ve never been sure why.
From the moment I realized I had grown a male infant inside my decidedly female body, I was impressed to the point of being intimidated. Fortunately my son was sweet and gentle and uncomplicated. His early years were a cakewalk -- in marked contrast to the way my head spun from his sisters, one of whom, pre-language skills, once bit me on my right butt cheek in lieu of asking me to move, and then a few months later toilet-trained herself.
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