It is no secret I have a soft spot for boys.  I’m a mother to two amazing creatures of the boy variety.  I have always taken the charge of raising them into good men extremely seriously. When they were little, I would fixate on toddler and preschool behaviors and strongly believe I was completely failing them (and society).  Honestly, boys under the age of 8 are often little monsters …at least mine were.  So far we are doing OK, but the stakes get higher as they get older and that is sometimes overwhelming.

Over the last week New York magazine has featured a series How to Raise a Boy.  I have been transfixed.  Pouring over each article like a text book. Topics including aggression, emotions, baseball, sex, porn, sexual assault and consent.  I was so inspired reading the series, I asked our local bookstore to get the paper edition of New York magazine.  If you are mother of boys, put aside time to read and absorb. Truly, it’s that good.  If you are mother to girls, I ask that you read a few of the articles.  Boys often get a real bad rap but are dealing with situations that are foreign to us as women.  No doubt the my boys and your girls are going to eventually interact and it is helpful to be empathetic to the challenges all children face in the modern age.

We all want the absolute best for our children.  Being open to conversations that we may find uncomfortable might be the pathway to understanding their world.  My hope is that we are still in this together.

PS// My life with boys is pretty darn amazing and I wouldn’t have it any other way!

Other than this, Little Man only had one other item on his wish list in December.  A motto jacket.  It literally came out of the blue and was completely unexpected.  He continued to ask for it, so on Christmas morning he found this sweet jacket under the tree.

After careful consideration of his current wardrobe, he decided he had nothing to wear with it. For the last 3 years he was worn the same thing everyday: basketball shorts, a short sleeve t-shirt and zip hoodie.  He has now created a new uniform for himself.  Black on black on black.  He requested new black jeans and ALL black shirts.  (Thank you, Old Navy.)  The black Vans were a birthday present, which happens to fall 4 days after Christmas.  Without fail he has worn a version of this uniform since New Year’s Day.  The kid is strong on commitment.

If I was his stylist- I would add a dark green beanie, for a little splash of color, and these awesome spectacles.

We shall see how long this lasts, but for now it’s pretty fantastic.

Dear boys,

Our summer came to an abrupt end this morning.  After weeks of sun and friends and freedom, you face weeks of structure, work and responsibility.  As I tasked you in organizing your backpacks, charging your iPad, packing your lunch and finding a book- I realized how much we have grown. Obviously you have physically grown, but the maturity that is emerging is astonishing to me.  You are becoming self-sufficient young men in front of my eyes.  I have learned to literally “chill out” and continually try to NOT sweat the small stuff.  (I didn’t even make Henry change his stained t-shirt this morning.  I’m showing great progress.)

When I think about what I want for you this year, my list is simple.  I want you to be yourselves.  That’s it.  I feel like the rest of the stuff is working itself out.  You are learning to be trustworthy.  You are both reasonably kind people.  For the most part, people enjoy your company.  You occasionally eat a vegetable.  I love you for the unique beings you are.  Keep on being weird, stubborn, caring, fiery, funny and unpredictable.  My promise is to guide you and not try and change you.  I’ll support you in your passions-even if I don’t get it.  Your dad and I are lucky to be on this ride with you.  Although we may annoy you, we are your biggest fans. Always.

As you charge into 5th and 8th grade, try to keep it together.  If you fall flat on your face, I will help you pick up your yard sale.  And I will also do your laundry every once in awhile.

Have a great day 2. Love, Mom

Today marks 13 years of being a mother.  It actually seems astonishing to me, but then I look at pictures and it is all too real.  My Will was the sweetest and happiest baby on the block.  With his blond curls and killer blue eyes, I was smitten from minute one.  There was something reassuring about those early days.  Lucky for me I didn’t have any postpartum depression or sadness.  It was actually quite the opposite.  I instantly loved every part of having a baby and felt confident as a mother.

Then Will became a toddler and a pre-schooler.  All of my conceptions that I was “doing it right”, that I so naively assumed when he was tiny, were thrown out the window!  To say he was a spirited child is a complete understatement.  I read every book, tried every strategy and cried and yelled a ton!  He was so darn cute and inquisitive, but never easy.  I would later learn that many of our battles were directly related to ADHD, but at the time I was just a horribly ineffective mother (or so I believed).  Adding Henry to the mix upped the ante.  I had become a mom to two ridiculously over-active boys and I was outmatched on a daily basis.

Will has grown into an amazing young man.  He is passionate and fun-loving.  I have never met anyone so willing to try new things without trepidation.  His interests are alternative and that is 100% awesome!  I don’t particularly love Star Trek, but I listen intently to all of his factoids.  Our path together has been anything but straight. But he is hitting his stride and has matured in ways I didn’t think possible even a year ago!

I’m not sad that he is turning 13 because he is so pleased about getting older.  Don’t you remember that feeling?   However, I am keenly aware that our precious time together under one roof is ebbing.  He is finding independence and needing me less and less.  Proud to be his mom doesn’t even come close to describing how I feel.  I cannot wait to see what lies ahead for this beautiful creature.  I am the lucky one!

Everyone needs a mantra, right?  That might be a bit of a stretch, but I love it when someone tells me they have a personal mantra.  While mantras are usually focused on one’s self, my new mantra is focused on parenting.  My “mothering” to be specific.  As we embark on a new school year, I have adopted a simple but powerful mantra:  I am raising capable humans.  (At least that is the goal!)

As a mother who does not work outside my home, this guiding principle isn’t so simple after all.  My job is actually… my kids.   My kids and running my house while trying to maintain some semblance of sanity. When your kids are your work, you can get a little crazed.  I take my boys’ shortcomings, struggles, and idiosyncracies very personal.  I feel it all to my core.  After a particularly difficult school year, I came to painfully realize this is 100% unhealthy.  It isn’t good for me and it certainly isn’t good for them.  They are humans, and although I am on the journey with them, it is their journey after all.

These boys do amazing things all of the time.  They are capable of climbing rock walls, skiing black diamonds, making stop motion videos, and popping up on surf boards.  If this is true, then they are also capable of making mac n’ cheese, managing their homework, asking a teacher for help, and doing their own laundry.  Of course I will advocate for them and help them when they need it.  I love them fiercely!  I just need to remind myself that I don’t need to DO for them all of the time.  In my teens, my dad used to say the funniest thing.  He would tell me, “I’ve done my job if you want to move out.”  I totally get it now.  Independent children ready and eager to take on the world is the end game.  The first step is just getting out of the way.  Simple, but not easy.

What do you think of personal mantras?  Am I just taking my crazy in a different direction?

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