I'm pretty clear that I'm a boy mom. I think boys
are cool (and stinky and odd) and a lot less maintenance than girls. My boys
are 12 (Genesis) and 9 (Noah) years old. I think they are cool (and stinky
and odd) and beautiful and I can't wait to see them as men. But
something's been happening...
My first clue?: Nearly 12 years ago when I noticed
my first infant's erect penis. (!!!) I had no idea that that
biological occurrence could happen to a months-old boy. And beyond the initial
shock, I was... enlightened. The light bulb went off in my head, "Wow, so no
wonder that is SO important to them... they've had to manage this thing
since before they could talk!"
Thus began my rabbit-hole-slide into thinking
about how to help these boys become well-adjusted men. *Of course I have a
vested interest in helping my boys be the best men they can be. 10-15
years from now I do not want some woman looking at my son sighing, "WHAT
was his mother thinking?!"
And so I read books and studies, and asked
questions of anyone who seemed like they knew how to raise successful men. I made my peace with the bloody scrapes, loud tumble rumbles, broken
household items, seemingly inherent chauvinistic responses, body emission
But now puberty is descending upon our household
like a... like a... wild, girl-sniffing, gallon-of-milk-a-day drinking, musty,
moody, body-part-obsessed, semi-sweet, peacocky, jerk. And I've decided I no longer want to think about what it's going to take for them to be men.
fact, I am turning the boys over to my husband. I'm gonna sing a song and do a
dance and everything to make it official.