I’ve always felt a fair sigh of relief that my first child happened to be a boy; not that I wouldn’t love a little girl of my own one day. It’s just that I was never a girly child myself. I never really cared about dolls or princesses or dress up. Never ever even thought about dolling up Barbies or bottle feeding a Cabbage Patch. I loved animals (SO much) and wanted my own of every variety for a pet. Bats and spiders were definitely on my list. I liked playing in the dirt, climbing and jumping off of things, pocket knives and cool rocks. Catching crayfish while wading in murky creeks was the ultimate in sheer joy. Pink was never a color I picked for anything. I really liked forest green back in those days. All this being said, I guess I might not need to be worried at all that I’d end up the mother of a girly girl. It’s probably rather doubtful I’m even a carrier of Barbie-loving-genes the more I ponder it.
So, sweet. A boy. No sweat. He’s sure to love all the things I mentioned above. And he does. And then some. Like cars. And trucks. And motorcycles. And airplanes, helicopters, tractors, trains, fire trucks, dump trucks, cement trucks, tow trucks, 4 wheelers, monster trucks, buses….you get the picture. Engines, motors. Things that go. Of course he does!!! It’s that Y chromosome thing! Why hadn’t I factored this in? I don’t know.
I was beyond prepared for the love of tools/worker guy phase. I’m married to the man who eats, breathes, sleeps all things tools and work related. I was prepared. And I thought it was adorable watching a shrunken version of my husband go through the motions of being a “worker guy”. I even played along, making phone calls to line up jobs, help build things, run (pretend) power tools. I also was his biggest groupie when he formed a band with 3 of his imaginary friends, often making guest appearances on “stage” to sing along or play an extra instrument. So fun.
And then one day it all changed direction. I honestly cannot pinpoint when exactly or what/who triggered it, but all of a sudden the only thing that mattered in play world had an engine, wheels, steering wheel, horn, rims, and gas tank.
And the collection began. And grew. And grew. And grew.
In addition to the growing collection and everyday, all day play with vehicles, there is the indefinite chatter and questioning about all things endowed with engines and motor sounds (which he makes constantly under his breath and/or very out loud, pretty much from the time he wakes up).
There is also the daily incessant begging to be allowed to go out and sit in one of our vehicles parked in the driveway–even in 8 million degree heat. I cannot begin to imagine the hours I have spent hanging out in the driveway while he played “driver guy” in the car or truck –with all doors and windows wide open, of course. Now we have an (almost) 4 year old who stays up to watch Top Gear next to daddy, and even browses through the latest issue of Car and Driver. I’m serious about both of those things.
This new obsession of his is rather adorable really. I love that he is so enthusiastic about learning all there is to learn about every vehicle ever made and I will encourage him to do just that if it makes him tick. It’s just that, and ironically this is where my apparent girly side beams through, I have absolutely no knowledge or remote interest in vehicles whatsoever. Ok, well aside from having a basic like or dislike of the particular vehicle I’m owner and driver of I mean. If it looks decent and runs without causing me any kind of annoyance, I’m good.
This has never been an issue in my life until now. Now I am peppered with questions and comments all day everyday about every make and model on the planet. Upon waking, Liam asks, “Hey mom, what do you want to talk about? Cars! Let’s talk about all the cars Chevy makes! And then we can get all my Chevys out and you can be the tow truck guy and fix them all at the garage!”. While driving, I need to try to pay attention to traffic as well as name off each vehicle on either side of me. In parking lots, without any exceptions, we inspect each and every car on the walk to the entrance of store, restaurant, etc. I have to say, shopping is easier when there are vehicle shaped carts to ride in!
While I am nearly nauseous from being forcefed all things vehicle, I guess there may be perks to being the mother of a little motorhead. I am slowly, though by default, learning just how many darn vehicles are out there! And while I may be an unwilling participant in my accidental “schooling”, this obsession sure is making the wheels turn (pun actually not originally intended) in his little noggin. I can just see all those new brain synapses firing off like little tanks of nitrous as he’s lost playing in vehicle world. Hopefully there isn’t a downside to it. Should I be concerned that the other day as we sang our ABC’s, one of us started out, “A-B-C-D SUV“??