She

And I laugh out loud. I have so many "hes", plural of he, she is almost an anomaly for me. Two beautiful daughter-in-laws and three granddaughters have been gifted to my by the  Father; other wise my life is full to the brim of "hes". Not news to anyone who knows me or has every visited my blog, I have five sons, two live in permanent grandsons, plus two live with their parents grandsons. All these boys and all their friends and cohorts filled my home with more than the allowed by FDA levels of testosterone. Sometimes I tell people, folks who I sense will see the humor, I suffer from OET, Over Exposure to Testosterone. Amazing how some are offended by the words testosterone or estrogen as if I was explicitly discussing one particular personal activity that could be associated with the two hormones. Sheesh.

She, well...growing up my playmates were more likely than not boys. I loved playing army, or building forts in the woods. I wasn't afraid of worms and could bait my own hook from early childhood. I can swing a hammer, run and hand drill, and I even know how to work a level. I could change the oil in my first and second car, even know where the grease fittings could be found and how many pumps each on needed. I used t' could throw a pretty decent spiral.
Female talents for the most part escaped my understanding or comprehension. Don't get me wrong; it was the 70's I liked mini skirts and shorty shorts. Tube tops and halters. I could dress like a girl, just not sure how to act like a girl. Not that I was boyish or not feminine, but to have a conversation about fashion or make up or heaven forbid a dance or date, I was clueless. My tongue wrapped around the wisdom teeth I was born without and my throat dried up shut tighter than the  toilet when a teenage son tried to flush a whole roll of paper towels filled with dog barf.

Today I am a wife, mother, grandmother, and when I have the energy and brain cells a pretty good friend. But growing up a SHE was not easy. I know now what I did not understand then. It is ok to be different from everyone else. In fact, God MEANT  me to be the way I am. He created me with the gifts and talents that I have to do the work He has set out for me, just for me, special like.
I would rather shovel manure than scrub floors, work with the cows than the laundry, rather wear muck boots than, heels (or any shoe not a boot) I like to cook, but take out is better. Heaven forbid I still not pick my own worm and bait my own hook. I am grateful God that He took the time to design me to be me.

 

Selfie with new shades