Metamorphosis

Little boys, at the beginning are like every other child. they need nurtured, loved, fed, rocked.....they need their mommy. However, before you know it these sweet little creatures begin to realize they are something special...warriors. When mommy comes into the room expecting morning kisses, she may get one....followed by "bang, bang!" That's right a gunshot. Who taught them that fingers could pose as weapons? To climb trees at heights that mommy won't attempt and contemplates calling the local fire department for rescue? When did these sweet little babies become incapable of passing their brothers in the hallway without tackling?

"Mommies don't wrestle" is a constant in my vocabulary. Boys are inherently just that....BOYS. Created to exhibit strength. Do everything "hard"...play hard, love hard, and hard willed. Determined to prove their manliness by peeing on trees and accumulating scars. Convincing the baby-sitter that "mommy lets us" fill up a barrel and drop our 4 yr old brother into it as long as he's wearing his life jacket. The list goes on. With all this will and determination it is sometimes easy to feel inadequate in molding them. I can see daily, what a great job Daddy is doing. Teaching them responsibility, discipline, work, shaping them into the men they will become and just giving them the rough play they crave. When will I see the grace and empathy that I diligently strive to instill? The answer? Today. My oldest son is now 9. Over the last couple of months there has been a maturity switch that has flipped in him. He willingly obeys, he's immediately remorseful of backtalk and actually offers helpfulness. Yesterday while playing outside with Daddy he came running toward the door in 100% boy style. Aggressively and quickly. I heard the stampede approaching but didn't think twice about it until it happened. From my helpless perspective, it was in slow motion. Two hands braced straight forward intending to push open a door, come straight through out-dated, single pane glass. Instantly I am in well disguised panic mode, crossing hundreds of shards of glass to draw him in and inspect. "Are you ok, are you cut?(over and over again) Two 1/2 inch scrapes, that's all. Fear and the bleeding cuts produced little tears. The downpour came after he looked at Daddy cleaning up the mess. "I'm so sorry I broke the door" he managed to say through his sobbing. We repeatedly and genuinely explained we didn't care about the door, our concern was him. But he felt so badly, we could only assure him of our forgiveness and let him cry it out in our arms. This morning as he kissed me before he walked out that same door..."I really am sorry that I broke the door, Mommy, I know your glad I'm ok, but I just want you to know I meant it when I said I was sorry. I don't want you or Daddy to have to work extra to pay for it."

I'm so proud of you Tanner..the child you are and the man you will be. I'm so thankful for your tender heart!~Love Mommy