Sometimes I just don’t understand little boys. I love my little boy very much, but there are those times when I just simply don’t understand his behaviour or that of his friends. Most of the time, I just don’t understand the behaviour of his friends simply because I know my child’s mind. I know how his mind works, as it is so similar to my own. There are some things that are more like my husband, of course, but for the most part, I see myself in my son.
I see this gentle boy who is fair and just struggling with injustices and abstracts at his current age of 9. I see a rough and tumble, let’s-get-filthy-outside child who doesn’t always know how to deal with the finer points of conflicts and simply gets angry and upset, then comes inside, slamming the front door. He tells me part of the story and I have to investigate if I feel like the infraction warrants it, or simply talk him through the tough stuff and let him know it will be alright. It’s me that he turns to when things get difficult and I wouldn’t change that for anything in the world.
My son is just newly 9. He turned 9 one month ago. He’s a young one in his class age-wise, but he knows more mature subject matter simply due to the fact that he has 3 older teenage sisters and his best friend is is 13. His best friend lives next door and they have been fairly inseparable all the years we’ve been here, since the boy was just 8 months old.
I’ve decided that boys are weird. They play strangely and they fight in a strange way too. Many is the day, well, truth be known, most days, the boys will start playing Minecraft, then it’s outside, then back in for the X-Box and a sports game, then outside for another game, maybe some basketball, then ride the bikes, then back inside for something else. At least once or twice during this time, the boys will separate and go their separate ways, one close to tears or slamming a door. It’s those moments when it’s mom to the rescue. I’m sure my friend and mom to my boy’s friend is the same as me.
I get the boy to divulge the problem, we discuss, settle the problem whenever possible and go on about our day. About 45 minutes to an hour later, the boys are together again. It’s weird, but it works for them. I always worry about my boy, but I’m getting over it now. I’m learning that he’s growing into a “big kid” now and is able to fight his own battles much easier. He’s growing up too fast.
I admit I’m his mom, but I’m really proud of this little boy. In 3rd grade, there was a project where all the kids had to write something positive about all their classmates. It was a project about filling everyone’s buckets full. A little girl in his class wrote that my boy “always has a smile and always helps others.” What a sweet and wonderful thing to read about him. He is a good boy with a big heart, but he’s still one of those strange little boys who does weird things.