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Fear of Boys, or Boys and Fear

Last week I had the rare opportunity to meet a long-time friend, bringing just Owen with me.  We gabbed non-stop for three hours as we wandered the rows of stores at the Jeffersonville outlet mall, sometimes several times each as we concentrated more on our chatting than on our direction!  It was truly refreshing, all of it: the beautiful day, the few bargains we found, the lack of a toddler around my knees, a friend who's known me longer than nearly anyone else I'm in contact with these days, freedom to discuss everything under the sun.

As I mulled over our conversation on the drive home, I realized that several times throughout the morning, I'd made a big deal of the fact that I have sons rather than daughters.  It was always in conjunction with some sort of parenting challenge: potty-training and sitting quietly in church are the two that spring to mind, but I'm sure there were others.

My initial reaction to this realization was to panic.  What if I'm using the fact that I have boys to justify bad parenting???  Well, that's a little overly harsh at this juncture, I think.  If I end up with a 10-year-old (with no developmental disabilities) who is still wearing diapers and screaming in church, and I write it off as "well, boys are harder to potty train and have trouble being quiet," then yes, I would be using my sons as an excuse.  We're not there yet, obviously!

I do suspect, though, that I might be using the male-ness of my children to cover my fears.  Truth is, I am a little frightened of potty training.  If I point out (regularly, and loudly) that boys are "typically" later and harder to potty train than girls, I get to focus on the challenge of the child rather than my fears of getting started.  Same for being quiet in the pew: if boys are "typically" louder and more physically active, then my fears that I will never adequately train my sons for church participation are somewhat justified, at least in the short-term. [I'm using "typically" in quotes because I know there are a dozen moms of girls reading this who will protest that these are definitely equal challenges for them!  And I don't doubt it!]

My friend, who happens to have three girls and one boy, wisely said nothing about my assertions, that certain things would be harder for me because I have boys.  And of course, being on the other side of it [her son is quite potty-trained, as of course all boys are, sooner or later], she knows that every child has his or her individual struggles (and that all of them, eventually, will become independent human beings).

I'll have to watch myself, in the future, that my sons don't become a crutch for my own perceived inadequacy in parenting.  I don't really expect that to happen, but I'm glad I had reason to think through it now, and to become aware of my tendency to mask fears with excuses.  Easier, harder, or somewhere in between, I do love my boys!!
(And they love to play together!)

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