Jake's parents have eight and a half (half because he's still in the belly) grandsons and zero granddaughters. Go figure. Being around eight boys all day long is like eating lots and lots of butter in gourmet meals: they make you happy but they are also dangerous business. I swear my heart stops pumping at least half a dozen times a day after seeing one of them jump from a big rock five feet above ground or climb onto a tree ten feet in the air. They are all grade A Batman and Spiderman knockoffs, you have to understand. They seem incapable of surviving without a stick or some sort of weapon in their hands. It's all very frightening to me.
Where I'm from, boys don't run or jump or climb or get dirty without being yelled at or having their ears yanked. I think it is one of the reasons why very few of them ever grow to be men. How can you expect a boy to ever grow up when all he knows is the inside wall of a gigantic bubble? And one day, when that bubble bursts, you will find not a man who is ready to face the world with a family on his back but an immature thirty-year-old boy who has no sense of responsibility.
It is a constant challenge for me to find the perfect balance in letting Ethan learn from exploring the world and keeping him from getting too scuffed up but I will certainly try my very best.
I grew up with all sisters. John had 4 brothers. I had no idea what to expect with little boys. I quite frequently get complimented on my laid back approach to reacting to my little boy. I comment that if I jumped at every time J stumbled, I'd have a heart attack by now. Plus, the more we react, the more it upsets them, even if it wasn't a big deal. Good luck with Ethan.
ReplyDeleteAww Claire! I completely understand your complex... we're in the same boat here!
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