Grow a Boy in Six Easy Steps

Today my oldest son turns 12. TWELVE! He is not a boy, not yet a man (someone should write a song about that... it's kinda catchy). As I was thinking about him this morning, I remembered this post I had written a couple of years ago about growing a boy in six easy steps. I slightly modified it, but I still believe it. Oh boy, these boys!

I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't sad when I found out that my fourth and final child was a boy. I was sad. My firstborn was a daughter and we were poor enough that most of her clothes as a toddler were hand-me-downs and gifts. She still looked adorable, mostly thanks to my sister's jewelry line and great style. That little girl of mine always had a cool pearl necklace and a few bracelets on, even when swimming and sleeping.

When we found out we were expecting a fourth child, I was excited to have a new live baby doll to dress. But nope, third boy. I wasn't super excited about more jeans and converse, light sabers and tiny cars, haircuts and dirty pockets. My heart yearned for a tiny dancer and someone who could wear all of those adorable necklaces. But as soon as Rhett was born, my heart changed. I wrote about that miraculous change of heart five days after he was born (here).

I know some people have more than three boys and older boys, but there are some things I have learned in this past decade of trying to grow little boys. Wanna hear?

Here it goes:

1. Boys Love Hugs

Girls are cute, but when that little boy wants to hold your hand, kiss or snuggle with you, you say YES! Something happens to a mother and her squishy heart when her little boy needs her affection. It becomes more squishy, to be sure. It melts and puddles down to the pit of your stomach and you think you could die of happiness. It also does something terrible to your memory: "What smashed window? What dirty sink of dishes? What ruined patch of grass? What torn up jeans?"

But, do you know how much your little boy needs YOUR hugs, too? They might seem tough, but those little boys need your hugs and back scratches and hand holds more than you do. They need affection just as much as your daughters, and I believe it will only make them better and kinder men. Hug your boys, especially when they don't deserve it.

2. Boys Love Sticks

It's true. A stick is a magical gift from the gods. You may spend $20 on a Nerf sword (which my boys all love and somehow we have accrued over a dozen), but a stick can be so much more than a sword. It is a light saber then a rifle, a sword and then a wand, a rope swinging from the trees and then the beginning of a fort. Did you know there are sticks in different shapes and sizes? It's true. My boys are constantly showing me how this stick looks like a machine gun and that stick looks like a boomerang.

Sticks are amazing. Get your boy out and find some sticks.

3. Boys Love Style

It is still fun to dress boys. We had a pair of seersucker pants that all of the boys wore and every time it just made me want to grab and love on them. It is even more fun when they start having their own style. My 12yo is very involved in his hair styles and the cut of pants he prefers. Our 9yo acts as if he doesn't care, but there are a few items of clothing that he refuses to put on and wear outside of the house. Our 6yo is all about the accessories. He loves wearing sunglasses, ties, watches, wings on his shoes, and anything else we will let him wear. Which is a lot. He has more bracelets than I ever did as a child.

Some people have expressed concern over our boys' styles of dress and hair, but I don't worry myself with any of it. Boys like style as much as girls. It is all part of the process of growing and feeling comfortable in your own skin. Take your son shopping and see what he gravitates toward. Boys love dates with you, too. One on one time is the absolute best.

4. Boys Love Work

Well, not really. Most of my boys complain and whine every single Saturday when it is chore time. My middle son rolls his eyes every time I ask him to do anything but play on a screen. But, boys need work. Things are easier now than when I was a kid (and that was easy!), chores are simpler, games are everywhere. Boys need to still work hard, see value in their accomplishments, be prepared to leave your home when they are 18, and open a door for women. I still believe in boys learning to be hard working and respectful. Opening doors and letting women go ahead of them is included in learning respect.

My boys are naturally pretty smart, God-given to be sure. But I tell them often that the most successful people in the world are not the smartest, but the hardest workers. Don't raise soft, lackluster smart boys. Raise boys who can love work.

5. Boys Love Potty Words

It is true for all three of my boys. They love potty words. Throw in a "poop" or "fart" into your story and you are the most hilarious person ever. I have never believed in shushing the potty words completely. Like all fine pleasures in this world, moderation is key with potty words. Boys need to express these funny little phrases more than you can understand, and if they don't do it around you, they are most definitely trying it out with friends. Why? Because THIS.

I don't know when they outgrow seeing humor in potty words. My 40yo boy still laughs heartily at a well-placed "poo" reference.

6. Boys Love Praise

Don't we all? Somehow in the history of raising of boys, we humans have felt this need to make them tough and resilient and we do it by being very selective and sparse with our praise. Allegedly, If we tell them too often that they are strong and smart and kind and good-golly quite handsome, then they will not grow to handle criticism and disappointment. Baloney. Criticism and disappointment will come all over the place as they grow, which is all the more reason to give them love and praise at home.

Don't get me wrong, I reprimand and correct all of my children. I also try my darnedest to tell them how unique and cool they are, how much I appreciate their help and listening, why they are so smart and handsome. A sincere compliment is worth more than the snazziest outfit or coolest Nerf sword that you could ever buy. Give your boys praise and do it as often as you can. All it will do is make him more confident as he grows in this world and prepares to leave your nest for good.

Wait. My boys will leave my nest for good someday?! I know it's true, and yet thinking that in six shorts years my oldest boy will be taking flight is enough to make me stop typing this post and run and give him sloppy kisses and praise for days.

I am so glad I got three boys to follow my daughter. I can't believe I ever doubted that they were exactly what I wanted.

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Guest post: Captain's Log

Captain’s log: What happens when Mom is left alone with three boys under six for five days. 

Three boys, one mom, five days, no dad. There are many strong humans who are used to this sort of thing and roll with the punches. For me, one soft with the presence of consistent reinforcements, it seemed like an eternity; every second brought a crumbling of my mental stature. 

While alone, I documented my condition through a series of logs shared via social media. The following is a transcript and photo-log of how I survived using the my life raft of sarcasm and my 72 hour kit of cynicism. 

Captain's log, Day 3 sans reinforcements: 

Captain can’t remember the last she changed her underwear. Found a band aid in hair this morning, not sure where it came from. Natives are growing restless, their access to sugar and screens is increasing dramatically.

Captain survives nights by watching too many episodes of Hoarders and eating unspeakable amounts of ice cream. 

Captain fears an uprising is imminent, and requests, if she perishes, to please bury her near a quiet bathroom so at least in the afterlife Captain can pee in peace.

Captain's log, day 4 sans reinforcements:

Shower managed, but at the expense of a box of Cheerios, the contents of which still remains ground into captain's new, expensive, and impulsively purchased wool area rug. 

Natives have learned 2 new swears, claiming captain yelled them at various natives throughout the day. Captain denies such claims. 

Morale is looking up as captain's extended family has sent pizza to the ship and crew and natives are now dining in peace. Captain’s motivation to cook meals is all but gone due to crushing fatigue and growing indifference to the ‘five servings of fruits and veggies a day’ rule.

Captain still seeks a quiet place to pee, as solitary urination has not yet been achieved.

Captain’s log, Day 5, help arrives:

Reinforcements have arrived, and not a moment too soon as natives had grown deaf to Captain's voice and anarchy was building. Her commands now make natives laugh and throw food. 

Order has been restored, but reinforcements may be sleeping on couch after complaining about free massage received on voyage.

Also, if reinforcements do not stop talking about luxury of 5-hour-long solo flight, Captain may be forced to feed natives diet coke and leave the house right before bedtime. 

Captain has, at last, peed alone.

"Cooking dinner with a toddler underfoot is always a blast." from Instagram @robynn.garfield

Robynn Garfield has worked as a professional writer and journalist for 10 years. Her employment adventures have included KSL.com out of Salt Lake City, freelance work for NPR and CNN, and a fruit salad of writing projects featured in published anthologies, blogs (), and angry letters to the editor. 

Robynn currently stays at home with her three young boys. She staves off insanity by reading crap on the Internet and waiting longingly by the front door every night for her husband to come home.

Mother to Mother: Bodies

I've read a few articles lately that question current health beliefs. It's amazing to me how many things are written every single day about health and diet and what we should do with our bodies (yes, including this one--ha!). 

Scientists now claim that perhaps human bodies need more salt than health authorities have allowed. Salt is good! YEAH!

Oh, and all of those years of being told that "breakfast is the most important meal of the day" (except for that semester I spent in France), I now read that maybe, just maybe, breakfast eating might not be all its eggs are cracked up to be. Maybe. 

Also, stop exercising to lose weight. Really. It makes perfect sense. Exercise because it feels amazing. Because you want to do more. Because you need the time to clear your head. Because exercising can help manage stress. Exercise because your body needs it, but not because you think you need a "beach body" like the commercials and Instagram accounts and advertisements tell you are so imperative to happiness.

I have four kids and while my own body has been marred by their formations and debuts, I know it's the best thing I own. And more importantly, I want my children to feel the same way about their own bodies. I don't want my kids to loathe their bodies for not looking a certain way, but to eat what is good and healthy and to move and run because they can!

This video is fantastic: 

This Girl Can celebrates the women who are doing their thing no matter how they do it, how they look or even how sweaty they get. They're here to inspire us to wiggle, jiggle, move and prove that judgement is a barrier that can be overcome.#thisgirlcan

Moms, dad, daughters, sons, all y'all and me, too: we need to stop punishing our bodies. Read science and research and then make the best decisions FOR OUR BODY. Because bread is delicious. Salt is savor. Exercise makes you feel amazing. Water is life. Your body is fantastic. Love it. Work it. Own it. 

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Five crazy kid alarm clocks

We start school in two weeks. Over the summer some of the kids shifted into different bedrooms and how we managed school mornings last year isn't going to work this year. While we were discussing our new wake-up routines, I told the kids about the alarm clock that I had as a kid. It was a rooster playing the guitar and it sang the most annoying song over and over again until you pushed on its head. And like any millennial parent, I thought I'd see if it was on youtube to show my kids. Ten seconds later we were watching the terror of my childhood mornings:

Can you feel the emotion?

My brother had the alarm clock with a gorilla playing the drums. And my mom had a clock where a wino clown whistled at the top of the hour. That one freaked out my friends during high school movie nights. 

Apparently I don't own enough whacky clocks as an adult. But watching all of these clocks from my childhood caused my children to want a crazy alarm clock for their school mornings this year. We did a little internet searching and here are some of the whackiest and most amazing alarm clocks we found right now:

A dancing, rapping bacon alarm clock. What is not to love? (LINK)

This gun alarm clock has my little boys the most excited. You have to shoot the target to get the alarm to stop, which sounds fun to them and painful to me. (LINK)

If your kids like cars and racing, imagine how revved they would be to wake up every morning to "start your engines" and the intense sounds of race cars. I might have a heart attack, but if you've got a deep sleeper, this could be your/their answer. (LINK)

Star projection at night and eight different sound options to wake your child. I love this one, but my boys aren't buying it. I love ceiling projections. (LINK)

A cuckoo alarm clock perfect for kids. It's vintage and current and I want one for my room. (LINK)

A new alarm clock might be just what we need to get everyone up on the first day of school. And every day of school thereafter. Let's hope so, at least.

Do your kids wake up with an alarm clock or do you wake them up?

You learn and you learn

I was at a youth camp last week, helping young women "learn and grow" (and yes, I intended those quotation marks every little bit). There was one day that the girls got in groups of 10-15 and walked around different ropes courses with themes and team building exercises. I was put in charge of one where eight girls had to stand inside a small roped-off area that was a "sinking ship." Somehow they had to figure out how to grab a rope suspended from two trees six feet away to get them off the ship and over shark-infested waters to a tiny marked-off "island." 

If they fell off the rope or dragged in any way, the sharks won and they would "die"... but then go back to the end of the line. In other words, just like real life. I would have four groups of girls come to my little ropes course where I would give them the rules, watch them work through it, and then guide them through discussions about what it all meant and represented.

My first group came through and it consisted mostly of the girls I knew (including my own daughter). Since it was my first group, I STUCK to the rules, I strictly left them to figure it all out, I might have even had my arms crossed while watching them struggle. I thought that was my role, I thought it was how they would learn. Then an old leader who has watched this activity hundreds of times came over and gave them big helps. 

I felt like a moron for not doing it sooner. Three out of fifteen girls got across and the discussion was lame. 

They left to their next course activity and I got my new group, where I felt much more prepared. Everyone got a shot at crossing the shark-infested waters, but some girls were unsuccessful and I let them give up super easily. I figured they at least got to try. They slunk over to the logs and sat while everyone else finished and the discussion was moderately better.

The third group of girls came and I had great passive suggestions that helped them all get across, save for a couple who tried a few times but didn't want to keep going. I get it, I thought to myself. I have strong legs, but my upper body struggles in carrying all of my weight. I didn't want them to feel self conscious, because I know that I would. The discussion was more spirited than the previous two, but still a bit stifled.

Do you see where this is going yet? 

The last group came and I was ready for it. I had all of the wonderful suggestions that I had learned from the previous groups. I had much better insight and was more aware of the girls' moods and skills. They fed off my energy and killed the whole activity that they ALL got to the island (even those with less upper-arm strength than THIS GAL), had a really inspiring conversation, and they all tried crossing again. 

It was a completely different experience than the first group. I kept thinking about the differences and what I could have done better. But, in the end I realized that I had to learn how to lead the group just as much as the groups of girls had to learn how to successfully complete the course.

Is it any surprise that with FOUR kids of my own that I kept thinking about how my four groups are like my parenting? With my first, I had it all figured out. She wouldn't ever be messy, she would always be super polite, eat all her dinner, have a bedtime, get straight As, and overall prove that I am a great leader/parent. Arms folded and everything, I would make sure she learned.

Second child, I am a little more relaxed, but still probably too hard and assuming. Third child gets a lot of love and leeway (probably too much leeway). I've learned how to accept who he is and his strengths. My last child is spirited, understood, and so far successful in all he does. He even gets chances to do more than the others ever did, because we have both learned a lot more quickly how to get through the challenges. 

It's the same song and dance I hear my parents and older siblings talk about. No matter how hard you try, the first child gets the arms-folded parent determined to prove that THEY are good parents. The baby of the family is confident because maybe his nose wasn't on the wall as often. I don't know. Sometimes I think my youngest needs his nose on the wall more often. And perhaps our generation of parenting (and the one just beginning) is so afraid of being "mean" parents that we are raising over-indulgent, over-privileged humans. How do we have fourth-group ropes-course experiences with our first kids without the brattiness? 

It's so tricky, trying to learn how to raise good humans. Who knew that our PARENTS were also LEARNING to lead while being all parent-y on us? What do you do? Any tricks for the rest of us needing a seasoned older leader who has seen this course hundred of times before?

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