My family spent Spring Break in Phuket Thailand. We were sitting in the lounge of our resort during my beloved Happy Hour. Our server delivered our drinks and looked at our family and said, “Three boys Mam, you must be busy. ” She placed the last of the drinks on the table and questioned “You don’t want a girl?”‘ I responded with my pat polite answer, “Oh yes, 3 boys, and no I am happy with my guys and life is very full.”
I have other comments I say depending on the rudeness factor of the person asking the question. This particular lady was kind and had even commented the previous day about the kids being well behaved, she also added for good measure, especially for American kids?! Anyway, I felt obliged to give the kind response, plus she was in charge of the wine delivery. I certainly didn’t want to make her angry!
As I sipped my complimentary house wine, I realized something. The five of us have traveled together to several states and now several countries and although the levels of English proficiency and dialects might change we receive the same comment over and over again.
No matter where we go strangers feel the need to make conversation about our same sex children all hovering around the same age. There seems to be some sort of fascination, or compulsion to comment.
Before I got pregnant for the first time, I’ll admit I did want a girl. But as the cliche goes, once I found out I was pregnant my only desire was to have a healthy baby. Plus the moment I saw my oldest’s face minutes after he was born I happily submerged myself in dump trucks and lego Bricks and never looked back. At this point, I hope for lovely daughter in-laws.
-In my experience with 3 school aged boys I will receive one or more of these communications daily:
1. A call or email from the teacher, letting me know as a gentle reminder that something has been forgotten, lost or the children are failing to complete something. I have received emails noting my sons’ greatness as well!
2. A notice from the school lunch card system letting me know they are low on money AGAIN
3. A call from the nurse for varying degrees of injury or illness
4. An email from a room parent requesting an item or volunteers
5. An email notifying me that one or all of my sons have signed up for a new optional school project to be done at home!
6. An email from a coach about a change of schedule including an added practice
7. An invitation to a party or playdate (which requires gift and or taxis)
8. An email or call from the Principal,letting me know about an “incident”
*This lovely one occurred today along with #2, 4, & 6 and it is not yet noon!
*What are the questions you get asked over and over by strangers?
Passport Parenting, Singapore 
Love your blog. A few months ago, a wonderful family moved next door (twin boys who are 9 & in the third grade at the Atlanta Speech School & a 5 year old) and another new family with a 2nd grade boy, a 4 year old boy and a 2 week baby girl. This combination has led to lots of boys emerging from their homes and riding in packs throughout the neighborhood and playing in the creek (not a tiny trickling one but one that makes you feel like you’re in the middle of a National Forest with gorgeous rocks/ledges). We’re all extra concerned about safety given that boys will be boys, especially in a pack and that cars can drive fast through our neighborhood-at least it’s a horseshoe road and not a major road. Speaking of incidents, I had taken the 2nd grade & 4 year old boy mentioned above to the Prime Time Festival at Rob’s School to give their mom with the newborn a break. At the very end, Derek (who had jumped off a chair at the neighborhood block party a few days ago to catch a balloon and landed on his forehead) fell as he was getting off a seesaw had hit his head on the seesaw & then on the wood chips and had a heavily bleeding cut under his eye. Fortunately, his dad had just returned home from a business trip and took him to the Scottish Rite emergency room. The last update that I got was that they were waiting for the plastic surgeon. I felt terrible.