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Thursday, October 1, 2009

the knife

It's so true that if you blink the years will fly by. My oldest will soon be 7 in just a few weeks. I, like every other mother, am getting all misty thinking about those first moments in the hospital when I gazed on this incredible creature that I now was to take home and raise. He seemed so small (not for long) and vulnerable. He needed me!

Jump ahead 7 years. He's all legs, energy and dancing to the beat of his own drum. At 7 he stands above my shoulder in my bare feet. (Current scientific growth charts project he will be as tall as I at the age of 10..thanks dad for that info!) He is growing and becoming an amazing creature.
Currently, A and I have been reading a book about masculine initiation. The author talks about the stages boys and men travel through in their lives...Cowboy, Warrior, King to name a few. It has shed an interesting light on how I view parenting my boys. I've always been a "teaspoon of dirt a day keeps the doctor away" and I've watched mothers run after their sons "rescuing" them regularly from things like...oh, dirt and adventure (they may get hurt...or dirty). I've always tried to limit my "be careful's" to only life threatening scenarios. I don't want them to be overly cautious and lose their sense of abandon and adventure.


Recently, I've been challenged in this area. I knew it was coming. I've always said that I will more than likely be sitting on the sidelines watching one or both of my children hurl themselves around a track on or in something that requires fuel.

J has been talking about getting a pocket knife since we visited his older boy cousin this summer. His cousin is in Cub Scouts and was learning to use a pocket knife. Oh, J thought this was the coolest thing. So A and I decided that we would get him one for his 7th b-day. He and A picked out the perfect camo swiss army knife on-line and we started the long painful process of waiting for it to arrive.



The instructions have been clearly ingrained since we first started this adventure. He is not to use it without adult supervision and it will be kept in a "safe" place other than his back pocket. Time seemed to drag on forever, yet he never whined, he only waited with eager anticipation and excitement.

Finally, about a week ago it arrived! I wish I had a camera at the moment he opened the box. Truth be told I just wanted to be in the moment rather than trying to "capture" it...(it's captured in my heart forever!) Excitement! Shock! Thrill! Now the hardest part would be waiting for daddy to get home. There are just some things that a boy needs to do with his dad and learning to handle a knife is one of those things.

After a few brief instructions and words of caution about safety J was set free to whittle. He sauntered around looking for the "perfect" piece of wood...found himself a chair (which he moved about 10 feet away from everyone so we'd be safely out of the way) and began to whittle. His male bravado was strong. After about 3 strokes with the blade he leaned over his shoulder and.....spit. Yes....he leaned over his shoulder and spit. I literally did a double take, looked at A and asked, 'he just spit didn't he?' 'Yes, he did' said A. Where in the world did he get that from? A has never whittled before and I don't remember watching any whittlin' and spittin' shows on PBS? At this point I realize (and embrace) that you can't fight the Y chromosome.

3 comments:

jankr said...

Yep, it is that Y chromosone! Love the blog, I check every day to see if you have written anything. MOM

Jessica said...

Thank you for that wonderful glimpse into a day in your life!

Lola said...

This is hilarious!!