Boys Should Be Boys

I recently read the book Boys Should Be Boys: 7 Secrets to Raising Healthy Sons by Meg Meeker, M.D. I had been struggling with my boys, especially Z, and my sister-in-law recommended the book. I expected to read it and hopefully get an idea or two from it and just skim over the rest. I was happily surprised. I enjoyed the entire book! So, I thought I would post some of my favorite things from the book. If you have a son, I would encourage you to find this book at your library and read it!

There were a few things that stuck out to me as I read this book. The first was the statement that boys don't need more, they need less, except when it comes to time with their parents. They need less electronics, organized sports, television, etc... She even went as far as saying that is good for boys to get bored because that is when they have to start thinking and use their imagination. I love that! I don't need to have something for my boys to do all the time. Some of Z's favorite times are when he is left alone in the playroom. He will play for hours by himself. I used to be worried about that, but in the book she says that boys need time to be alone. At the same time, she stresses the importance of know what your boys are doing in their alone time. If they are alone spending time locked in their room on the computer, even the best of boys can get in trouble.

Time with parents is the biggest theme in the book. Parents, especially fathers, should be a big part of a boy's life. She talks about the lack of fathers in homes now days. Sons want to be like their fathers, good or bad. She also talked about the love that a mother has for her sons and how it is important to show him that love. Not only are ideas that she has learned as a pediatrician shared, but actual statistics about children and parents are stated. She supports all of her ideas with research. Sons need and want their parents to be involved, supportive, and present in their development into a man, which, Meeker states, does not happen until they are 25. Boys minds continue to develop up to the age of 23! That means teenage boys are still very capable of changing for the better or worse.

One of her chapters talks about the importance of God in a boy's life. I loved this chapter, not only because I am a religious person, but because everything she said was backed up by research. She wasn't just touting beliefs, she was supporting the fact that teaching a boy about God helps him mature in to the kind of man we want our sons to become. Young boys are very open to God because they want believe that someone is always there, providing unconditional love. That belief can help boys through the hardest of times when not even their parents can be there.

Meeker points out the virtue is not just for girls, it is for our boys too! She says that, often, boys are even more sensitive to things like lying and name calling than girls, but they are more guarded so we don't realize it. Boys need to learn to tell the truth, to have courage, to have self control, etc... And one of the best ways to teach them these things, is to show them. She suggests, instead of taking them to a ball game, maybe their dad can take them to a soup kitchen to volunteer.

The last thing I got from the book that I want to share is the importance of the outdoors. I have been pregnant the last two summers, so my poor kids have been stuck in the air conditioned house with their overheated mom. After reading this book, I am making it a point to get my kids, especially my boys, outside more. Dr Meeker talks about how instead of letting your boy play a war game on the computer, give them a paintball gun and have your son and your husband go outside to have their own war in the woods. Boys, and even men, need to have a connection to the outdoors. And they need real, not simulated, experiences.

There are so many awesome things that I learned from reading this book. It gave me some ideas, but more importantly, it gave be a new resolve to be a better mom to my sons and my daughters. It gave me a push to spend more time with my kids, to listen to them, to praise them, and to be the kind of mom they need to grow in to the kind of adults I hope them become.

Fun Marks

To say S has fears is an understatement. She has always been a very cautious girl, which is nice at times. She doesn't take unnecessary risks, but other times it is out of control. Here are a few of her fears:

McDonald's play place
Big slides (anything bigger than the toddler slide at the park)
Steep stairs
Stairs without a railing
Spiders
Flies
Ladybugs
Basically any "bug"
Toy bugs/snakes/etc...
Pretty much any animal (dogs, cats, chicks, you name it)

The list could keep going, but you get the idea. She is afraid of things that many other kids are afraid of, but she is also afraid of things that, by the age of 5, I had hope she would be fine with or even enjoy. It breaks my heart to watch her miss out of playing with kids because she won't climb up the tunnel at McDonald's or because the stairs up to the slide at the park are too big/high. We've had lots of talks about being brave and trying things. I've tried to help her. I've tried to back off and let her figure it out. I've tried to force her. I've tried just about everything I could think of. Nothing seemed to help.

The breaking point for me came while we were visiting family. We were staying at my father-in-law's home, in the upstairs bedroom. The staircase is pretty long and there are no railings. There are also a few lady bugs. No big deal, right? Wrong! S was upstairs getting dressed. When it was time to come down stairs she started to freak out! Now, when I say freak out, I mean it. She did not want to go down the stairs! She was screaming and crying like you wouldn't believe. She did not want to walk down the stairs with no railing and ladybugs. I tried reasoning with her. "Put your hand on the wall." "There aren't any bugs." "W can go down the stairs just fine and he's a baby." "I will hold your hand." "Dad will hold your hand." "If you don't come down, you don't get to go to lunch with us." Etc... All to no avail. Michael was about to carry her down, when I said no way! She is five years old and can go down a flight of stairs by herself!

I left to take a shower, thinking if I left her alone, maybe the screaming would stop and she would decide to come down on her own. Nope. Finally, Michael talked her in to scooting down the stairs on her bum, meanwhile, he would flick any lady bugs out of the way. Needless to say, she avoided going up stairs for the rest of the trip. She even slept on the main floor so she wouldn't have to go down the stairs again.

After that, I was going crazy thinking about how she will deal with getting on and off the bus for Kindergarten, playing at recess, etc... I won't be there, and no one else will want to deal with her crazy fears. I didn't know what to do. We talked about trying brave things every day (like going down the front steps that don't have a railing or walking down the hill or going on a slide), but with three other kids I wasn't good at staying on top of that. After having every attempt at making her brave had failed, all I could do was pray that something would eventually work and things would get better. A little over a week ago, I got an answer.

Since moving I have struggled with what to have my kids do to get time outside. We don't have a fenced in back yard, a swing set, or a park within walking distance. We do, however, have a skinny sidewalk that goes from our front yard to the alley in the back. So, Michael and I decided to buy some scooters for the kids. With S's fears, we debated whether to get her a two or three wheeled scooter. In the end we decided on a two wheeled scooter. I figured if she fell, she would hopefully just get back up because she liked the scooter so much.

We got home, pulled out the scooters, and the kids were off. They loved them instantly! Then, of course, S fell. Luckily it was on the grass, and she was wearing jeans, so no harm was done. When she pushed up her pant leg there was a bruise (probably from a previous encounter) and instead of letting her freak out, I told her it was just a "fun mark." I told her it was just a mark she got because she was outside having fun. She thought that sounded fine, and went on her merry way. Fabulous! Crisis averted. At least for now.

The next day, the kids and Michael were playing out side while I was in the house when the wailing started. The moment I had been dreading since we bought the scooters had finally come. S had crashed, and we just wasted all that money on a fun toy. I find Michael looking for bandaids while I hear S in the bathroom screaming. I know where bandaids are. I get them and go to clean her up. Don't touch! Scream. I hurt! Scream.

Did you crash?

No, I put down my scooter and was walking.

Of course you were. My poor accident prone girl. No wonder stairs scare you.

Don't put a bandaid on!

Just one. Look! It's got a cool bearded guy (they are Duck Dynasty bandaids) and it says, "I find when you don't know what you are doing, it is best to do it quickly." See. Funny!

Finally get a bandaid on the worst knee.

These are the coolest fun marks ever! When they stop bleeding you will get some awesome scabs. I loved having scabs on my knee when I was your age.

Screaming continues.

Maybe a bribe will calm her down. Yes, I'm that mom.

If you stop crying, I will paint your toe nails.

No! Crying will not stop.

I finally grab some nail polish, let her know that she is welcome to join me when she calms down, and I leave.

Eventually, she follows. I am not allowed to paint her toes because they are too close to her knees. I can, however, paint her nails.

A few days later I hear her talking to my mom on the phone about the fun marks on her knee. Seriously? She heard me over her sobs? Awesome!

She now talks about fun marks when she goes outside. She also goes down the stairs and the hill in our front yard without crying, screaming, or help! Getting hurt isn't fun, but it isn't as awful if a "fun mark" is the result. At the time I thought I was just super clever, coming up with "fun marks" right on the spot. But now as I look back, I realize it was just an answer to a mom's prayer.

Just Like Grandma

Growing up, I always felt a special connection to my maternal grandmother, Maxine. Out of over 30 grandchildren, I was the only one named after her! I thought that was the greatest thing ever, and still do. As I've gotten older, I've realized I have a lot more than my grandmother's name as my middle name, but I have a lot of things in my life that are similar to her. We both love to knit and crochet, and do it to keep our hands busy during a movie. In talking to her on the phone last week, she told me she made hundreds of sweaters for her grandchildren. She asked if I knew why. Her answer, because she loved us. She also told me about her Grandma and how she loved to knit lace. So this whole knitting thing goes back a ways, but for me I will always think of my grandma's sweaters, doilies, snowflakes, etc... when I am working on a project.

Another similarity we have is lots of kids close together. My grandmother had seven children, and I only have four, but she had them fast and so have I. My granddad told me that when asked how far apart two of his daughters were he answered, "Nine months and one hour!" That was his way of assuring me that it doesn't matter how close my kids are. That is between me, my husband, and my Heavenly Father.

I love talking to Grandma about my kids because she understands everything I am going through. She can laugh at the stories of W playing in the toilet, but also sympathise when I haven't had contact with another adult, besides my husband of course, for days. She is always willing to be a listening ear when I just need to call and talk while someone listens.

The third similarity, that I love, is our hazel eyes. I think that it is more than a coincidence that I am named after Grandma and have her hazel eyes. Maybe it is a silly connection, but I love it! And better than that, Baby B's middle name is Maxine as well, and she is my only kid with hazel eyes.

When B was born, I called Grandma to tell her. She was so excited! Every time she talks about B, she uses B's middle name along with her first. I later found out that Grandma walked back to breakfast at the assisted living home, where she had just finished up, to announce the B Maxine was born. I can't think of a better woman to have B and myself try to emmulate in our lives. I am thankful my name is a contant reminder to live the kind of life Grandma has lived. She is a great lady, and I hope, one day, tht can be said about me as well.

Grandma, B (about 1 week old), and me

 

How I Made My Husband the Best Husband Ever

I have the best husband ever! I know you are probably thinking, "How cliche!" or "No you don't, I do!" or "She just hasn't been married long enough yet to think otherwise." etc... Well, it's true. I do! And you do too, I hope. If you want to have "the best husband ever" all you need to do is follow the training regimen that I have outlined below. Of course, you will have to personalize it for yourself, but I am pretty sure it will work!

The first topic to train on is chores. I am lucky in this area. My husband came in to our marriage willing to do dishes, laundry, and bathrooms. In fact, last week was the first week since we moved (almost three months ago) that I had to do any laundry because he has been so good to stay on top of it. Unfortunately, he doesn't do laundry the same way I do. The clothes don't always get sorted the "right" way. Sometimes when he does dishes, the dishwasher is loaded "incorrectly." Some times he uses the "wrong" cleaner for the tub. So, to "fix" these issues, what do I do? I change my attitude. Instead of being annoyed that there are a couple of whites in the colors or there are two less plates in the dishwasher than I could have put in, I thank him. That's it! In that brief instant, I can go from the woman with the husband that does all the chores incorrectly to the wife that is so glad to have a husband help her around the house.

The next training is kids. My husband is the youngest of six kids. He did not grow up babysitting or changing diapers. Just last night he put pajamas on W and the top was on correctly, but the bottom was backwards. No big deal, except they are one piece pajamas. So, another training moment. What did I do? I laughed and took a picture! Once again, I could have been the woman with the husband that doesn't even know how to put pajamas on, but instead I was the wife who got a good laugh and a fun picture to show my son when he gets older. And I have a husband who is still willing to help with bed time. See! Best husband ever!

I could go on and add more categories like driving, shopping, etc..., but I think you get the idea.
I haven't been married long, but in my short seven years I have realized that I can have things done my way, or I can have help with them. I can have a husband with no desire to help because I am critical of him or I can have a husband that will do things his own way so I can have a break or just some help.

Pop culture is so good at making men look like they are stupid and incapable. They aren't! But if you keep saying your husband, brother, son, dad, etc... is to dumb to figure out how to take care of one little thing, you and he are going to start believing it. In the end, it is you who are missing out. Yes, men are different than women. Thank goodness! How boring life would be if my kids only had me to play with. Only their dad would build a fort in the living room and spend all night with them on the floor (or the couch). Only their dad would bounce a kid on each leg, hold another in his arms while watching a presidential debate on his phone. Only their dad would put them up on his shoulders or hang them upside-down amid squeals of delight.

I freely admit that I am not perfect at seeing the positive. Sometimes Michael does things that I can't help roll my eyes at, but I have come to realize that it is my issue. He is who he is. I can enjoy it or be annoyed with it. It is all up to me. I am choosing to enjoy it. And because of that, I know I have the best husband ever!

The Lime Ricky House

Now that we have 4 kids, grocery shopping with the whole family is awful! So, every other weekend I will take either Z or S with me and we go shopping. It is fun to have that one on one time that we don't get very often.

A couple of weeks ago it was Z's turn. On our way home we had to stop at a stoplight on a side street that is normally green. Since this wasn't a normal stop, Z got to look around and see things he had never noticed before. One of those things was what my friend dubbed, the Lime Ricky House.

The Lime Ricky House is one of the ugliest houses I have ever seen. It is bright neon purple with neon green trim. Z exclaimed, "A purple house!"

Me: "That's a funny house."

Zach, his voice filled with awe: "It's beautiful!"