Monday, May 4, 2009

Boys are from Mars.

Since I managed to go my whole life without having any brothers or boy cousins who were close to my age or guy friends or neighbors who acted like they were my brothers, I am kind of clueless when it comes to certain aspects of raising a boy.

I get the whole being dirty thing - that's fairly universal. And I encourage Liam to touch bugs and tromp through the yard in his sandals despite the possibility that there could be a snake or something icky hiding in the tall grass (no matter how much it freaks Bill out). But when it comes to boy stuff - like guns and swords and trucks - Liam has been seriously short-changed. (I'm sure that's more to do with the fact that I don't like having a bunch of crap in my house than it is about me not understanding boys.)

If you ask me, a pile of sand and a keg cup are perfect toys for boys.

For Christmas my sister gave Liam a pop gun and a whoopie cushion because she didn't think he had enough boy stuff to play with. I still don't think he gets that the whoopie cushion is funny because it makes a fart noise. He just thinks it's funny because it makes a "whoopie" noise. (I guess we forgot to teach him that farting is funny.)

It doesn't get much more awesome than fishing in a bucket of live crawfish.

Or does it?

Bill is somewhat helpful when it comes to boy stuff but he has his limitations as well. I mean, he's a guy and all but not necessarily what you'd call a guys guy. He was brought up in a house full of older sisters so no amount of watching football or playing poker with his friends will ever get him to leave the toilet seat up or burp in front of me. As a kid, he took tap dance and opera instead of baseball or soccer. And while I know he played with cars and Transformers and matches and stuff, there are certain rough-and-tumble aspects of boyhood that seem to have him stumped.

Going to his "happy place".

It's the wrestling, or rastling or whatever, that boys do that leaves us scratching our heads.

I think in part it's because we've never seen Liam play like this before.

Except for with us, of course. Bill and Liam have been playing Diggida Diggida for years now. Bill chases Liam down the hall going diggida-diggida-diggida-diggida and into his room where he "slams" his head into his chest knocking him onto the floor where he tickles him and tries to protect him from the dog who is trying to "herd" him with little bites. (I'm not allowed to play. I've been semi-banned from rough housing ever since I miscalculated the space between the pillows on my bed and playfully threw Liam headfirst into the massive wood headboard.)

I'm an instigator.

Aside from all that, we're fairly new to rough housing.

Is this normal?

Seeing Liam get down-and-dirty with his buddy is actually a little bit of a relief. I may be accidentally sheltering him and treating him like a mama's boy but he's still full of (play) fight.

Alright, he may need a little bit more help.
But, in all fairness, it's hard for anyone to get out of a half-nelson.

3 comments:

Katie said...

I love you Maggie! We have more trucks then I can count, but we have managed to stay away from toy guns, swords and such for 3 years! We rough house a bit, but certainly not as much as other families of boys that I know. Also, I threw JT into his headboard once too! To my defense he was throwing a fit and I had it and carried him to his room and when I "gently placed" him in his bed he arched back and laid himself out on the headboard. Shouldn't have been throwing a fit if you ask me...

No Mommy Brain said...

i'm so glad i'm not the only mom to accidentally throw her kid into a headboard! is that not the worst sound you've ever heard? actually, bill gasping as he watched it happen might have been worse...

Anna said...

oh my gosh! i'm so glad you had your camera the other day. what a fun post! liam is such a good sport--even i don't have that much patience for owen's rough and tumble ways sometimes!