Today I have a guest blogger! Deb from Missives From Suburia writes about Love and Friendship.
Boy Love
Five years ago, when I found out I was having a boy, I thought he would be a mama’s boy, and I knew I’d raise him up good to be an emotional, feeling man who was in touch with his emotions and powered by a vast engine of compassion. I was right. Mostly. (He is definitely his mother’s son.) But I’m not always sure who’s doing the learnin’ on some days.
It’s harder than I thought to teach boys about the softer sides of human interaction, particularly when you yourself—even though I’ve been a girl all my life, I swear—weren’t raised that way. My parents didn’t kiss and hug us, and when we fell down or bumped into something, we were just as likely to get a “You know better than that!” than we were to hear, “Are you okay?” So it’s been a learning process for both my sweet boy and me, one made easier by a very loving husband who is a wonderful role model.
I’ve also discovered that there’s a certain amount of hard wiring in boys and girls (don’t get me started on all the pink or the Barbies in my world after child number two was born), and that society has its own will that it imposes on the different genders. I’m not going to pretend I was completely naïve to the existence of those influences, but I underestimated their power.
So the other night, we went with friends to the movies. Their children are twins, a boy and a girl, and they both go to school with my little guy. As we left the theater, the boys bump-bumped their way down the theater steps on their butts, and my friend’s sturdy, towheaded boy turned to my own smaller, younger, dark-haired boy and said, “I love you, Jackson.” Jackson didn’t skip a beat when he responded, “I love you, too.” Then they bounded off across the lobby to the racecar and shooting games, without a hint of self-consciousness or a need to diffuse their public declaration of affection with some “manly” wrestling or punches.
And that’s when I realized there was one more educational element I’d missed: friends. Friendship as a teacher is strong and not to be underestimated, and my heart bubbled up like a glass of frothy pride and joy when I heard those two beautiful little boys profess their love for one another.
But I can’t lie. I paused briefly on those crusty, carpeted stairs and felt the slightest stab of guilt. We should all feel so free to express our feelings for our good friends, and I don’t. I don’t feel that free, and I don’t express myself that way. But like I said…it’s a learning process, and I think my boy is raisin’ me up right.
Five years ago, when I found out I was having a boy, I thought he would be a mama’s boy, and I knew I’d raise him up good to be an emotional, feeling man who was in touch with his emotions and powered by a vast engine of compassion. I was right. Mostly. (He is definitely his mother’s son.) But I’m not always sure who’s doing the learnin’ on some days.
It’s harder than I thought to teach boys about the softer sides of human interaction, particularly when you yourself—even though I’ve been a girl all my life, I swear—weren’t raised that way. My parents didn’t kiss and hug us, and when we fell down or bumped into something, we were just as likely to get a “You know better than that!” than we were to hear, “Are you okay?” So it’s been a learning process for both my sweet boy and me, one made easier by a very loving husband who is a wonderful role model.
I’ve also discovered that there’s a certain amount of hard wiring in boys and girls (don’t get me started on all the pink or the Barbies in my world after child number two was born), and that society has its own will that it imposes on the different genders. I’m not going to pretend I was completely naïve to the existence of those influences, but I underestimated their power.
So the other night, we went with friends to the movies. Their children are twins, a boy and a girl, and they both go to school with my little guy. As we left the theater, the boys bump-bumped their way down the theater steps on their butts, and my friend’s sturdy, towheaded boy turned to my own smaller, younger, dark-haired boy and said, “I love you, Jackson.” Jackson didn’t skip a beat when he responded, “I love you, too.” Then they bounded off across the lobby to the racecar and shooting games, without a hint of self-consciousness or a need to diffuse their public declaration of affection with some “manly” wrestling or punches.
And that’s when I realized there was one more educational element I’d missed: friends. Friendship as a teacher is strong and not to be underestimated, and my heart bubbled up like a glass of frothy pride and joy when I heard those two beautiful little boys profess their love for one another.
But I can’t lie. I paused briefly on those crusty, carpeted stairs and felt the slightest stab of guilt. We should all feel so free to express our feelings for our good friends, and I don’t. I don’t feel that free, and I don’t express myself that way. But like I said…it’s a learning process, and I think my boy is raisin’ me up right.
2 comments:
Wonderful lessons. Thanks for sharing!
Good point.
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