Sturm und Mom

The Storm & Stress (& Joy) of Motherhood

Archive for the tag “boys”

My Little Commando

My little man just can’t stop moving!

Big Boy ran across the floor of the Toy Section, jumped at least 12″ up and landing 180° around, feet in a Sumo stance. “Ta Da!”

“It’s s Shaving Kit!  Just like Dad.”

There is something about being under 40lbs. that allows you to punctuate your sentences by leaping a third of your body height into the air.  Big Boy does it all the time.  He jumps, and kicks, and points, and air punches.  Like when he found a Junior Shaving Kit, complete with a can of foaming soap, a cracker sized mirror in a yellow frame, a tomato red Barber’s comb, and a plastic toy safety razor.

“Now,we can shave together,” he announced to the young salesgirl who was following us surreptitiously. “Me, and Dad.  Together.”

But he couldn’t wait that long.  As soon as we hit the back deck, he was scrapping white cream off his face with his blue and red Shaver.  “How do I look?”  Big Boy stuck out his chin, as if it was a pre-Prom inspection for missed spots and toilet paper First-Aid.

“Two big thumbs up, Dude. You’re perfect.”  Like you always are, Dude.

Big Boy is all of 3, and if you don’t know, hanging around with a 3 year old is a like keeping time with a non-stop one liner machine.

“When I grow up, I’m going to dance like SpiderMAN does.”  Punctuate this with a donkey kick or two.

“I wasn’t playing with the curtains, Mom.  I was just wiping my Boogy-juice.”

“But I can’t stop fiddling with my nose.  I’m exercising it.”

This morning I handed him an outfit straight from the dryer.  “Shirt, shorts, and underwear,” I said.

“Underwear?  Underwhoawhoawhoear,” he giggled and saluted the suddenly ridiculous garment toward the ceiling.  The invitation to Big Boy’s world includes the the letters:  U.O.L.O.L. or, Underwear Optional, Laugh Out Loud.  Never has anyone found anything so funny or so dispensable as Big Boy does his BVD’s.  I find discarded boy’s underthings – perfectly dry and clean, mind you – in the most unlikely of places.  Beside the powder room floor (tucked behind the waste basket,) on the TV couch, under my bed, by the kitchen table, and in with a bunch of doll dresses.  He’s never naked, just less dressed, you could say.  (We’re way beyond the stage where he come down “ready” in the morning, sporting nothing but sweater, Tee and socks.)

This all reminds of the time he was running around in his Board Shorts in the sprinkler.  They were big, baggy, Hawaiian print swimwear, and while the string ties were keeping things in place in front, the back was totally different universe.  I was blinded as two very round, very white cheeks reflected the sunlight straight into my eyes.  Sort of the pants version of a Mullet:  all business in the front, all Moon in the back.

“Dude!  Pull up your pants!”

He bent over at the waist and started twisting furiously back and forth looking evidence of immodesty.

“What?  Looks perfect to me, Mom.”

Yes, Big Boy.  You’re perfect.  Like always.

Bang! Bang!

In case there is anyone out there who still thinks that a boy’s behaviour is still determined by environment, I snapped this photo of Big Boy playing with a Barbie doll.

He’s shooting you.

School bans balls….Next, children

Because that’s what this is really all about, isn’t it?  Adults don’t want children around with their shouting, and running, and interrupting, and growing-up-and-paying-taxes-to-support-the-welfare-state.  Children should now all now be girls, who sit at tables and colour nice little pictures of all the damage human beings do to Earth.  Banning things you play with from a playground, is like banning liquor from a bar.  Oh sure, you can just sit around and talk, nibbling on deep fried chicken wings, but what’s the point?  The point is that whoever is doing the banning doesn’t want bars and their patrons, to exist.  Sort of got to wonder what’s going on in the minds of these Administrators…..

Anyone around my age (41) remembers all the super-dangerous toys we played with.  Things like cap guns, lawn darts, flimsy 4′ above ground pools, bikes without helmets, un-cut up hot dogs.  The only kids with any sort of padding were on a hockey rink (maybe.)  I don’t remember any concussions from a soccer ball.  I didn’t even know a soccer ball was hard enough to give you a concussion.  Could it be (no don’t say it) that maybe, not letting kids play is actually making then less safe, because they don’t know what they are doing?

And when did it become a crime to act like a kid, or more specifically a kid who’s a boy?  To run, jump, and take chances.  There is a reason that more and more people are trying, when they have kids, to have girls.  We like sit down, talk it out, get good marks, relationship minded ,”girlness.”  Hey — I’ve got five girls and I love them dearly, but I can also see that my Big Boy is getting a raw deal.  Like in Kindergarten, when 4 year olds are expected to sit immobile while listening to stories (hey — former porn stars don’t have time to sit through your kids’ fidgeting.)  Like is an emphasis on safety at all cost in the slowed down slides and imagination play stations at the park.  The characterizing of toy guns and other play that involves good and bad guys as anti-social, and imagining that it is an unnatural invention of a war-like culture.   I know girls, and girls love to get in a big group and talk out a pecking order.  Boys just want to take it outside.

This ball ban will probably be overturned, now that everyone is squawking about it.  It’s the attitudes behind it that make me crazy, (like don’t let your kid walk alone anywhere.)  Childhood is a fundamentally normal stage of human development.  Stop treating it like a prison sentence.

 

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