Son J got in trouble today. For playing in the dirt. PLAYING IN THE DIRT. Don’t get me wrong, I know he’s not supposed to at school, and I support the teachers and staff in their decisions, but at the same time HE WAS PLAYING IN THE FUCKING DIRT. On my way up to get him I ran in to one of the staff who was trying to comfort him, because son J was understandably upset. The staff member wasn’t too happy either. He said, “It’s dirt. Boys play in dirt. It’s what we do.”
Yes it is. Boys aren’t girls. They are more tactile – they play in dirt, they explore differently and they relate differently. They don’t behave for the sake of good behavior. Good behavior is an abstract concept. Little boys don’t do abstract concepts.
I like neat. I like good behavior. I like “do as I say and don’t question”. Boys don’t do that. My boy doesn’t. The upside of that?
I’ve got a boy who questions everything and who will call you on your bullshit.
If he thinks he is right and you are wrong, well then you are going to hear about it.
If his version of reality is different from yours you’re going to hear about that too.
He holds tightly to his beliefs no matter how odd they are.
He will not do something just to make someone else happy if he is uncomfortable. (Case in point, someone was setting up a photograph at the school. Woman I’d never met before and she asked if Jack could be in the picture, which was staged INSIDE the recycling dumpster. I told her she’s have to ask Jack and he politely said, “No thank you.” I did not cajole and say, “Oh come on Jack, just be nice and do it.” Instead, I got in the car as she scowled and said, ‘Way to go kid, good job not doing something you didn’t want to.” Wish I’d learned that lesson years ago.)
He throws himself into everything he loves.
He is the most frustrating person I have ever met in my entire life, and that’s saying something.
I had this idea of what my kid would be like, or rather, what I expected my kid to be like. That image and reality have yet to match up. I didn’t count on my kid actually being his own person. That’s not because he’s a boy, it’s just because he is who he is.
One of my coworkers said today, “I wish I’d had a boy frist (her daughter is about 7 months old). I think boys are probably easier. But then I think children aren’t easy, no matter what.” I laughed to myself and realized she was right. If it was easy it probably wouldn’t be as worth it.