Boy Mom Truth

I entered Life As A Boy Mom practically clueless. I came from Girl World, my life with only one sister. My mom has 4 sisters, and my dad has 9 sisters, which means I have 13 aunts. I have carloads of female cousins. Before babies I worked almost exclusively with females. I make friends easily. And, I love my girlfriends.

I knew not one thing about guarding a little boys heart in 2004, when I had my first child. Before Life As A Boy Mom, I thought little boys were, ... hmmmm, just not girls. I had no idea that they would need me, that they would confide in me, or that their brokenness would bring me to tears. I bought into what strangers whispered.

Boys are trouble makers.
Boys are mean.
Boys are rough.

Now I have three boys.
Mine to share with Dr. Romance, for now.
I am no stranger to boys.
I don't listen to whispers anymore.
Sometimes I cancel their whispers, their bold comments.
I tell them my truth about being a Boy Mom.

Last night my boy sat in my lap and cried.
He spilled mean words to my ears that he heard from other kids.
More heaves. More tears.
He misses San Diego.
More heaves. More tears.
I fight back my own tears.
He will miss Massachusetts when we move away in June.

I shelter him in my arms.
I wipe his tears.
I ask questions.
I want to know and he shares.

Here is my truth.
Boys can be honest.
Boys feel with hulking, soon to be, manly hearts.
They are wishful and dream.

Boys are sensitive.
Boys share boy bonds early on.
They have their own love language.
I don't speak it. But I spot it.

Boys require space.
Boys are loud.
Boys are physical.
They love to roam outside from the beginning.

That need to roam, I count it all joy.
So when the trash needs to be taken OUTside...
When the leaves need to be raked OUTside...
When the snow needs to be shoveled OUTside...
I am last on the list.
Because I am a girl, and I like to keep my pretty sock feet clean.

Boys confront fear.
I cringe. I do not like fear. I do not need to shake hands.
Boys are decisive.
They know what they want.
They author their own decisions
head first, in the dark
plummeting 20 feet in the snow.
The three year old bobs up,
dusts himself off,
and calls it fun.

We call time. We call last sled.
They listen. They obey.

Boys are generous.
Boys are thoughtful.

And the six year old declares,

"I give my last sled time to you and Daddy. You sled together and I will take your picture."

What about you? Do you have a truth about boys?