Let Boys be Boys: Hard Truth for Fluffy Moms
God must have had a sense of humor when he gave me boys. To be truthful, I’m as “fluffy” as they come. I enjoy snuggling up with a good book, bubble baths, and mochas (with extra chocolate). I’m gentle and soft-spoken, and my idea of outdoor recreation is taking my dog for a walk on the paved bike trail near our home.
It’s hard for me to “let boys be boys.” Sometimes I try to settle my boys—calm them. I want them to be more like me … but it doesn’t work.
I noticed there could be a problem when Cory was not even a year old. My husband, John, would grab Cory by the back of his zippered, footie pajamas and fly him around the house like Superman. Cory would squeal in delight. John would fly him faster and higher. I had to hide my eyes.
Then Cory turned two, and the favorite game of my men was “Jumping Joe and the Rock Monster.” Cory would chase John around the apartment with his plastic sword, and then when John was cornered he would turn around and nail Cory with a Big Bird beanbag chair. Cory would go flailing and hit the tiled floor, and I would gasp—sure that he was hurt. Within seconds, Cory would be on his feet, and they’d be at it again.
I was finally clued-in on the importance of this type of manly interaction when I signed up for James Dobson’s video course called “Bringing Up Boys.” (I highly recommend it!) In this course, Dobson stresses how boys need this male interaction. He claims they actually thrive when being “playfully punched” and having both parents interact with things that interest them.
I decided to try it out. That night after class I approached Cory (who was then fourteen), and I gave him a big slug on the shoulder. “I hear that you like this type of affection,” I added as I slugged him again.
His jaw dropped, then a huge smile filled his face, “Yeah, I do.”
“Wanna play Nintendo?” I asked.
A bigger jaw drop. A larger smile.
“Are you serious?”