Bashing Heads with Bubba

After raising 4 girls, it is hard to believe how different it is to raise a little boy. Everyone always said how much different the two sexes were in child rearing but I did not believe them. At every corner though, we are met with obstacles that I had not encountered with the girls. For example, both Dakota and the girls each play with dolls (much to the horror of their father I might add) but the type of play is entirely different. The girls would always dress Barbie up and have tea parties with her. Dakota on the other hand strips her naked, ties her up to the Hot Wheels track and proceeds to drive cars and trucks over her like some sort of track ramp. Trina is of course horrified at this behavior. I merely blame television and then watch intently to see which car flies the farthest off Barbie’s head. This is but one example, another is how they enter and exit furniture. The girls politely sit down and get up off the chairs and couches. Dakota on the other hand believes furniture is something that you should loot and pillage leaping to and from the couch or end tables like some sort of pirate boarding party. This plan back fired on Bubba last night as he dove from one chair to another he slipped and fell to his doom, in this case, the edge of a Bank One Ballpark chair. He split his head like a melon and was covered in blood screaming by the time Trina and I got into the room. We immediately surveyed the situation, put ice on his head and loaded into the car for what seems like our monthly visit to the emergency room. I am beginning to think we should have named Dakota Norm instead. It seems everyone at the emergency room knows his name. I have to admit, he is getting better. The hospital used to freak him out, now he is just annoyed when they don’t stitch him up fast enough. In this instance, Dakota was given an alternative treatment. Instead of stitches, they glued the wound back together. He thought that was pretty cool and even asked his mother if she could just hot glue him back together next time to save a trip to the doctor. Dakota was more bummed that they cut his hair around the wound than about the injury itself. He’s a tough little bugger, I only hope he makes it to the age of four.

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