Boys will be Boys

It happens all the time.

I’m walking into a store or restaurant and someone will comment on my kids.

“Wow, all yours, huh!” they might say.

Or

“Four boys and you finally got your girl.”

Just sweet and fun comments I take as compliments; verbal hugs from total strangers.

A few weeks ago, my husband and I were out with all the kids when a woman with 4 young girls and 1 baby boy of her own passed by me.  We eyed each other's little families, quickly realizing we had opposite genders.  I thought it was sweet and commented on how cute her girls were.  Her expression changed and she said in a somewhat discouraging voice, “You have four boys, huh.  I wouldn’t trade places with you for anything.”

And I smiled at first, thinking it was like the rest of the comments I get, like it was some sort of a compliment, only to realize it was more an insult.

That's not very nice to say, I thought and I wondered what she could possibly have meant.  Was she implying boys were more of a challenge to raise then girls? How would she know that?  Her boy was a baby in her arms.

And I got to thinking . . . 

Yes, I have 4 boys in a row.

Yes, they’re rowdy and wrestly (is that a word, let’s just say it is).

Yes, they like to tease each other and poke and have fun and be obnoxious.

Yes, they’re boys! 

Yes, they eat a lot! 

Yes, they can drive me crazy if I’m really tired and have too much to do.

Honestly, having 4 boys has it challenges, but most days it’s manageable at least I try to convince myself it is. 

But really, despite the food fights, the lessons on lifting the toilet lid and constant out-growing of shoes, I know these 4 boys are gifts from God.  They are my gift to cherish and teach and love.

Last weekend, we all went out.

I tried to dress up a bit.

At the restaurant the boys started playing tag.

Then, it turned competitive.

Running, tagging, “You’re it!” and the other one is crying because he didn’t win.

I’m wondering what I can do to just keep my boys still for a little while, with no fighting or trying to win or be stronger then the other.  

And the counselor says “They’re just boys and that’s what boys do.”  And he shrugs his shoulders like this is how it is, this is how it always has been; like a cave man dad once said to his wife as their boys rough-housed in their cave "Boys will be boys."

I’m starting to question the idea that "boys will be boys" because it’s taken over my life.

Is this really what boys do? 

The expression "Boys will be boys" offers no consolation prize; it provides no fuzzy feelings only the idea that one should give up.  What I think this expression really means is boys are going to do what they want when they want how they want unless their mother stays on top of them every single minute.  

Because I don’t like "boys being boys" all the time – teasing in the car, wresting in the house, pestering each other at the restaurant.

Later, we walked across the street to the City of Gilbert water tower.

And the water kept my kids occupied for the rest of the afternoon with no fighting on their part.  I watched them play and it occurred to me that my boys always need to be engaged, conquering something, entertained by a challenge, an obstacle that empowers them, they want to feel strong and if they don’t have an opportunity like that, they take it out on each other, find it in each other through wrestling, fighting, teasing, etc.

How is it I just realized this?  4 boys and I'm still trying to figure it out.  Parenting has a way of teaching, humbling, keeping me on my toes.  I know this realization doesn’t fix my certain dilemma, but if "boys have to be boys" it is some sort of consolation prize for years of additional parenting.

Take the time to read blogger Glennan Melton’s post on parenting “Don’t Carpe Diem”.  It’s a hoot.  She says it all in a nice compact little blog post.

Writing is a journey

by Kari Diane Pike

It's still Thursday...at least in the West. Between writing copy, doing laundry, kissing grandbabies, baking cookies, and making a fast trip to Paul, Idaho to hang out with more grans, I have enjoyed an eventful couple of weeks.

During the drive home this afternoon, I thought about all my writing projects sitting on the dusty shelves in my room. It has been months now since I paid attention to them. I started beating myself up for not being disciplined in my writing. I mean, come on. If I really consider myself a writer, then I should write every day. Right?

That's when a little voice spoke up and reminded me that I have been writing in my journal almost every day. I write a letter every Sunday reporting on all the goings on and discussions in the lesson in Relief Society and send it to our home bound sisters and those serving in Primary and Young Women. I have been doing a ton of research for a paper for school. And lately, I have been writing a lot of copy.

It occurred to me that writing copy has improved my writing skills in many ways. When I write copy, I have to know who my audience is. Period. I have to know what kind of people are most likely to purchase the product and write something that will convince them that if they don't buy that product NOW they will miss out and suffer for it. And I have to write in such a way that will keep that potential customer engaged long enough to be enticed to click on that "purchase now" button. Some of the copy I write is more about editing than actually writing new information. I do quite a bit of changing transcribed dialogue into prose for free reports and white pages. It's more like editing on a nuclear scale.

Keeping my audience in mind is just as crucial for my book projects. I need to determine what the market is going to call for (oh for a crystal ball!) and I need to write in an engaging manner. And that editing thing. Sigh. It's all about the rewrites. No matter what I write.

I've decided that my writing career is not so different than my life's journey. Every goal I set, every path I travel, every lesson I learn, helps shape who I am becoming. Sometimes the path is smooth and level. Sometimes the path is rocky and steep. And once in awhile, I have to pull over and throw up. I don't always end up in the place I thought I would be, but it is always the best place for me at the time. And for that I am very grateful. Besides, every time I get to the top of a hill, the view is spectacular!


hugs~

Dopey has Down Syndrome

by Nikki McBride Spencer
(re-posted from my blog in honor of World Down Syndrome Day, March 21st)

You've seen it, too. The alabaster skin with the shining dark hair. The evil Queen with the really bizarre head wear. The poisoned apple. And don’t forget the adorable little diamond miners—each representing a distinct personality trait or medical condition.

Some of those little men had real problems. Doc, the caretaker, had his work cut out for him watching after the bi-polar twins, Happy and Grumpy. Sleepy had a severe case of narcolepsy. The painfully shy Bashful could hardly speak around Snow White. Sneezy was allergic to life—that counted him out for feeding the chickens or dusting, what with the mold and pollen count and all.

Then there’s Dopey. Loveable, silly ole’ Dopey. When I was a child I never took notice of Dopey, never thought he was weird, or strange, or even out of place. I just figured he was part of this big and wonderful family of woodland folk who loved to sing and dance.

Then I watched Snow White again as an adult, as a parent of a child who was born with Down syndrome. As my children and I were watching this classic, the most amazing discovery dawned on me.

Dopey has Down syndrome. 

Think about it—he’s smaller then his brothers, evidenced by the clothing that is too big for him. His ears stick out, just like my daughter’s ears. He is non-verbal, just like some people with DS. He’s quite determined, has a sweet smile on his face, and jokes around a lot with his brothers. Sound familiar?

He has the biggest heart in the whole place. The Seven Dwarves would not be complete without Dopey. And here’s something that I find the most interesting of all.

Did you notice how much Grumpy loves him?

Yeah, Grumpy. The guy everyone loves to hate. Well, Dopey doesn’t hate him. Dopey loves Grumpy, probably more than you or I will ever know. And Grumpy, although a very grumpy fellow, still needs to be loved just like anyone else.

And that is exactly the point. We need people with Down syndrome around us. They, despite their disability or maybe because of it, have a huge capacity to love others. They can be really funny, making us laugh when we need it the most. They give hugs freely, without embarrassment. As a whole, they are the sweetest people I know.

Not all people with Down syndrome are sweet, funny, and loveable all the time; after all, they are individuals just like the rest of us. There are plenty of temper tantrums and selfish gestures. Plenty of hugs and loves, too. But you know what?

People with Down syndrome are a part of our human family, and they have a place here. They belong. They are individuals of worth with something to offer society that isn’t measured in a typical fashion.

Thank You Notes

By Leesa Ostrander

Has technology and lack of face-to-face contact eliminated the thank you note card? Is writing with a pen on a small card, stamping and dropping in the mail gone?

photo from The Job Stop

I recently advised a young friend to send a thank you note to a potential employer. She laughed and told me no, that she would feel silly.

After thinking about it, she asked if I meant to write out a card and mail it.

I again said, yes.

She came over, wrote the card and commented that the employer might make fun of her.

I began to think, what if he does?

Have we gone away from personal contact? Have we eliminated the human aspect of careers?

Another strange aspect of the card writing process, my young friend did not know if she should put the addressee at the top or the middle of the envelope. (I need to note that my friend is in college and capable of living on her own.)

Her confusion lead me to wonder, is email, texting, IM, Skype and the other forms of computer-mediated communication drawing away from the written contact.

How can we help the younger generation see the value in hand-written notes and the personal contact of a well thought out card?