Friday, August 10, 2012
bringing up boys
I’m the first to admit, being mom to these rambunctious boys does not come naturally to me.
I am neat, orderly, calm, a bit reserved….it seems the complete opposite of who these boys are. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE my boys with the intensity of a momma who eagerly awaited the day for her arms to be filled with not one, but two babies in one year. They are both incredibly smart, kind, and funny kids, and I am blessed beyond measure by each of them.
It’s the very nature of who they are that’s oftentimes hard for me to understand, let alone relate to.
I’d say, the realization occurred to me shortly after Nate turned one, and suddenly became a loud and wild toddler who ran everywhere, climbed everything, and seemed to tear up any sort of order I had tried to create in our house.
What was I to do with this child who literally ran circles around me?
He seemed to crash into things for fun and intuitively knew the appropriate sound effects that should ensue as well. He turned any stick shaped object into a gun or sword, and had wars with his brother, or the dog, or even a stuffed animal. No matter how much “practice” I gave him, he just never could quite understand how to use an “indoor voice” or sit and play quietly.
I was afraid to take him to the store, or to the library, or the park because I knew my boy. And my boy didn’t seem to have come with any sort of external listening devices that understood English. It didn’t make any difference if I had given him the speech before unbuckling his seatbelt about staying close to mommy, or holding my hand. The second his feet hit the pavement – he was off and running.
Isaac is really different from Nate.
While he doesn’t crave motion and movement like Nate, he does crave messes. Whether intentional or not, this child has a messy streak that would put Pigpen to shame. Messes seem to find him however innocent he claims to be. We know better by now though, that he much prefers to be causing the mess than to just have the mess up and find him.
There is little that shocks us now about this sticky fingered, Kool-Aide stained lipped, wrinkly shirted boy. We plan for and prepare ourselves for several of these messes a week, a phase that nearly everyone tries to convince me, he will outgrow. I am certain he is destined to be featured on that gross T.V. show Dirty Jobs when he is older…
I won’t bore you with the stories, like when he re-potted our indoor plants into our vents. Or decorated his walls with poo. Or ate an ink pen (his lips were stained for a 3 days!) Or carved drawings into the wood paneling. Or tore the wallpaper off the walls. Or peed on the side of the washing machine, inside the trash cans, and in the corner of Big-O tires…
No. I don’t want to bore you with my crazy stories. I write them all down, and pray really hard these wonderful boys of mine will be as fortunate and blessed as I am to someday….
…have boys just.like.mine!
I’m still learning lots about how to raise up boys.
And I’m trying really hard to understand that this is just how God has wired them. And God’s plans are perfect. And wouldn’t the world be boring if all the boys were neat, orderly, calm, and reserved?
I know my world would be boring without these boys!