(AS OBSERVED FROM A HOUSE FULL OF TINY MEN)

When I was younger, I imagined the type of girl I might raise. She would be confident; emboldened by her own abilities. She would be strong; assured of her intrinsic and extrinsic power. She would play sports, program computers, and demand excellence and equal treatment from the company she kept. I was certain I could contribute this gift – a capable daughter – to the world’s next generation.

I then went on to marry a man who does not contribute X chromosomes.

It was sometime between my second and third son that the gravity of raising boys really dawned on me:

I am the female archetype for them that will showcase women’s capabilities.

I am a primary player in their model of marriage and partnership.

I am responsible for demonstrating to them what womanhood entails and how it is sometimes distinct — and sometimes indistinguishable — from manhood.

Multiplied by 4 boys. No pressure.

3 things I have tried to emphasize thus far:

1. Body differences – with no shame attached.
   
   At this stage especially, there is no delusion of modesty in our home. Partially because I’m (often: see here) a nursing mother, and partially because not all of our bathroom door locks work properly. Regardless, I try to use medical terms to refer to body parts, with no judgment or shame. They are aware that I don’t have the option to stand and pee without making a mess, though I’ll be frank that the anatomical argument falls apart when we discuss the messes they nevertheless handily make while standing themselves.
   
   
2. Female friendships.
   
   I have encouraged and nurtured the boys’ friendships with girl classmates. Around the age of 3, they seem to gravitate towards hanging around in daycare with kids of their own sex, but at least as far as 6+, it seems more incidental because any time I suggest inviting a girl friend to play, they’re equally as excited and have a fantastic time together.
   
   
3. Value beyond aesthetics.
   
   When the boys were younger, I asked Dave to switch the adjectives he used to describe me in front of them. Instead of his standard “you look great” comment, he started saying things like “you are so ambitious.” “Did you guys see that? Mama is so strong.” “Lookin’ real accomplished there, Babe!” I want them to be thinking differently about the ways to evaluate the people around them — and women should not be primarily evaluated based on looks. (Side note: I made a soft commitment to myself to never speak badly of my appearance in front of them. If I have it my way, they will always believe their mother recognizes and internalizes the strength and beauty of her body — regardless of how it looks to others or ages over time.)
   

Time will tell how I execute on this mission. My hope is that one day I will contribute this — my gift to the world’s next generation: men who see women far beyond their physical appearances, who count on the insight and world-view of their female friends, who are allies, and equal partners… and who treat a request to pick up tampons at the store as no more contentious than picking up shampoo or deodorant.