I have had a son for a little over three weeks, and so far I have noticed a few differences in temperment and play.
First, Macey. Oh, Macey. She is all girl. The other day I was sewing and encouraged her to play with the train table next to me. I listened to her while she played and she was not pretending to take trips or even building anything or heaven forbid crashing anything into each other. She was marrying the trains to each other, pairing them all up. This I understand. Growing up, we had a pool table, and I used to marry the pool balls to each other.
Braden. Perfect little Braden. One thing I love about Braden is that he only really hates three things. His bassinett (or, as Garry calls it, the worthless albatross), getting his diaper changed and getting a bath. He'll cry while I change his diaper or give him a bath but when it's over, he stops. Almost instantly. It's just over. He doesn't see the need to cry to express how much he hated that, to punish me for doing that, to make sure I know how much he hated it. When it's over, it's over. He's already so less moody than his sisters, bless his emotionally-stable heart.