Raising Boys…Those Scalawags!

Those Scallawags!

Where’s the hammer? I’m going to finally hang this weathered oar on the boys bedroom wall. Wait…what is scratched into the wood?

‘Z-e-k-e.’ Well, what kind of dummy would carve his own name plainly into the wood so there’s no doubt as to the culprit? Good grief!

“Zeke!” I shriek in annoyance, “Come here right now! Zeeeke!!”

Thump, thump pounds the feet of eight-year-old Zeke. His wide eyes look at me with puzzled consternation, “What, Mom?”

“What is the meaning of this?” I ask, stabbing my finger at the laceration in the otherwise-smooth surface, “Why on earth would you carve your name into this oar that I want to hang on your wall?” I sputter.

With innocent eyes, Zeke insists, “But, I didn’t do it!”

“Of course, you did! Who else would carve your name?” I ask, shaking my head.

“It had to be Drover,” Zeke maintains.

“Nice try, Buddy, but I don’t buy it!” I retort, giving him extra chores to make up for the time I will spend sanding and re-surfacing the paddle.

Then!! Would you believe it? I discovered much later that Zeke truly did not have any part of defacing the wooden paddle with graffiti. His younger brother, Drover, very cleverly scratched Zeke’s name there and avoided all the blame. Good grief!!

He must take after his dad.

So, How Do You Tame the Boys?

I don’t know.

They actually grew up to be amazing men that I’m proud of! How did it happen?

It happened in spite of me. I was often at my wit’s end with their shenanigans. I did time-outs, hair pulls, yelling, lectures, and crying all without affecting any long-term peace in the household. In desperation, I went to the library (before internet!) and found a book called 1-2-3 Magic: Effective Discipline for Children 2-12 by Thomas Phelan PhD. This book instructed me to give them a 1 with the first infraction, a 2, and then a 3 after which they needed to go sit in their room until they were ready to behave. It seemed to work! I felt like I had a smidgen of control over my wild and unruly boys! Did I buy a copy for each of my kids? No. I think I would do it differently if I could. I’ve learned a thing or two since then.

—I learned that one boy’s love language is touch. Yikes, did he get more than a pat on the shoulder once a month?

—I learned that one boy’s longing, perhaps all of their longings, is to be wanted and valued. Did putting him in time out make him feel wanted?

—I learned that boys need a purpose. Maybe if I would have leaned on them more to mow the lawn and carry wood, and slathered them up with my appreciation, it might have made them stand taller. Instead, I often gave them chores as punishment. It wasn’t a confidence-builder. I know sitting in time-out didn’t make them feel good. Nor me either.

—I learned that boys connect by doing things together with me. I never fished or tossed a frisbee;. Maybe I should have.

—I learned that boys love to please their mom. How I wish I had let them know when they did please me.

—I learned that they felt insecure and vulnerable, and often acted out to express those needs. I wish I had spent more time meeting their needs rather than controlling their behavior.

I know it wasn’t all bad. And I know there is no perfect parent. I know that there is a time for some of the other tactics, but perhaps I wouldn’t have needed them so much if I had only learned these things then. Why is it that we gain wisdom after it is too late?

If I would give one piece of advice, I would say try harder to see the little boy’s vulnerable inner hurt and insecurities. I would try to touch their heart tenderly with grace. If you can reach the reason or need behind the behavior, and it makes things so much clearer.

Crying is one trick you might want to keep in your pocket. My boys hated when I cried. I was so exasperated with them one day, and I sat them on the couch and said, “I am so disappointed in you, that I don’t know whether I should yell or cry.” A tender-hearted one quickly replied, “Oh, don’t cry, Mom!” “You would rather I yell?” I asked in surprise. “Yes,” he replied, “but could you yell a little softer?”

What can you do but laugh? Laughter was my best stress-reliever and saved my sanity. Laughter is the shortest distance between two people. If I had nothing else to connect me with my boys, we bonded with a good laugh.

And remember, Mom, they will most surely turn out wonderfully in spite of you!!