The older my kids get and the more their individual personalities develop, I am made increasingly aware of the inherent difference between boys and girls–enough so that I have even wondered at how moms of multiple boys do it.
I’m not sure if Abel is the typical “rough and tumble” little boy, but he is definitely displaying more and more boyish energy the older he gets. He likes to talk about punching things and destroying things (even though he never actually would. There is a difference between “being a boy” and being disrespectful.), and the make-believe that occurs in his Lego-building mind always involves a villain or an adventurous conquest of some sort.
I have to admit, I don’t always know what to do with a boy. I give him a good tussle or a chase around the house every now and then, and I do my best to listen with interest to the imagined stories of his Lego inventions, but beyond that, I sometimes feel at a loss as to how I can participate in my son’s “boy-dom.”
A few years ago a more seasoned mother in my church shared with some of us younger moms the importance of finding a connecting point with each of our children–even our sons. Sometimes boys can be hard for moms to relate to because boys truly are different than girls; but we have to make sure that we find a way to relate to our sons lest we forfeit a relationship with them.
I am reminded of that important advice… because whether Abel would admit it or not, I think I have probably inadvertently hurt him a little this week. I have gladly spent time with the girls thumbing through the American Girl catalog that recently came in the mail, but when Abel’s Lego Club Jr. magazine arrived, I told him we would look at it “later.” In pushing aside his interests, I have pushed aside him. Not something I EVER want to do…. (Excuse me while I go seek his forgiveness.)…
…He may be “boyish,” but he sure is sweet and forgiving (and looking forward to our nap time appointment with the Lego magazine )….
I love my children equally, but I need to be willing to love them differently… because they ARE different.
This morning I laid down on the floor to join the girls and their Polly Pockets for a make-believe camping trip. We were minding our own business, setting up camp while talking about hair color and shoes, when suddenly a fierce tornado-man flew overhead. The Lego contraption which resembled a spinning bird with huge eyes tore through our camp, picking up our tent and lifting it across the room to its new resting place. As the tornado man morphed into a rock-throwing hurricane, we Pollys ran for cover
under the couch in the cave where we watched as the hurricane monster hovered outside, satisfied only after, once he had lured us out into the open, he had defeated us one by one.
Boys are from Mars. And their mommas need to visit their planet sometimes.