Issue #12: Discovering Boyhood

One bloody lip and little boy snuggle at a time

This past weekend, my oldest child turned eight years old. In the past we’ve hosted chaotically wonderful birthday parties, at home, with a reptile tour (yes, I’m serious, python and all) and at location (dear God those trampoline parks). But this year, we tried a different approach.

We gave our son the option to have a birthday party or to do something like a special outing or a “Yes Day” with a friend. He chose the latter, and so I spent Saturday with him and his buddy, at lunch, bowling and at an arcade, ending at our home, trading Pokemon cards, playing video games, and eating too little pizza and too much cake and ice cream. The birthday boy had a blast… and in all honesty, so did I. 

As I sat in the booth at lunch, across from this duo of energetic eight year old boys, I found myself entertained, enthralled, and in love with what I was witnessing. They babbled and laughed and pushed and shoved and blew straw wrappers, and then the food and drink came and they devoured it, while still telling me stories that didn’t fully make sense. 

I leaned forward on my forearms, asking questions to try to better understand what I was supposed to be intaking. 

I once read a quote that said:

“Does anyone really understand anything that comes out of an excited seven-year-old boy’s mouth?”

This is so hysterically, scarily true.

I may not understand the point of Minecraft squares, how to tell which Pokemon card is better than another, the desire to drench everything in syrup or ketchup, the need to smile and squeeze each other so hard for every photo that you look to be in physical pain, but I do understand friendship and pure joy, and as I sat there, that’s what caused the tears to gather in my eyes. 

In conversations with friends recently, I’ve come to the realization that I will not be experiencing girlhood firsthand for the foreseeable future: I have a crew of all boys. But I have suffered absolutely zero gender remorse (which I’ve previously shared here and here), and comments on me “missing out” are ones I refuse to entertain. I embrace my brood of young men with fierce love, and deep appreciation and gratitude. Our family arrangement is perfect, with no missing gaps in any way.

Glimpses of girlhood are but a ghost to me, with memories surfacing from my own childhood as the only reminders to that precious phase of life. As I wrap my head around that, I feel no sadness or want, but instead, sweet nostalgia and fondness for that fleeting time.

Girlhood, a special season of life, where you aren’t quite a teenager yet, but still far from the toddler years. It’s this time where friends become of utmost importance, where passions are discovered, and where you are figuring yourself out more, emotionally and socially.

As I watched my son on his birthday weekend, it hit me so quickly and beautifully and obviously: I may not have girlhood swirling around my life, but damn, I get to discover boyhood for the first time and it might just be the best thing ever.

Boyhood is night and day from my personal experience during those tender pre-teen years. I was entrenched in all the cliches of girlhood: American Girl dolls reigned supreme, Limited Too was the ultimate barometer of style, and which Spice Girl did you desire to emulate was the main debate (it was a tie between Posh and Ginger for me).

I grew up with no brothers, just my younger sister and I, with our mother and father, a father who was the epitome of a girl dad. He championed our interests from dance to horseback riding. But sports, rough housing, loudness, and the type of physical intensity that I experience on a daily basis? Non-existent in our house.

And then life served me with three little boys in four years. My life is rarely quiet, rarely calm, incredibly messy, and incredibly amazing.

I get both a front row seat and the essential job as referee to this world of boyhood, complete with constant bloody lips and bruised knees.

My son and his friend bounded about the arcade and bowling alley, never not moving, arms constantly around each other, cheering each other on with every high score they gathered. They shoveled chips into their mouths and wiped their greasy hands on their shirts, never not laughing.

I had always, in my narrow-minded perception, attributed sweet friendships to only girls, and yet that is not what has happened this past year for my son. A social butterfly, he’s lightly bounced amongst groups of different friends depending on the day and the activity at hand. But then he found a buddy that allowed him to be fully himself, the active and athletic, incredibly quirky, hilarious kid that he is. And he flourished. It warmed my mama heart immensely.

As we dig deep into the trenches of boyhood, I get to live a life surrounded by my boys’ friendships, by snakes and frogs, Legos and video games, Dog Man and Dragon Masters, and discussions and debates over basketball cards and Pikachus.

I may have kept my distance from these topics when I was ten years old but you better believe I’m leaning all the way in today. I not only want to witness it all, but I want to live and breathe it, to envelope our life in this joy and this special electricity. 

Our home will be one that is bursting with all the trappings of boyhood of yore but with a modern twist, one infused with a mother that believes in allowing all emotions, in embracing sensitivities and creativity, and refusing to try to tap down her children’s energy.

I’ve come to worry that traditional society and schooling punishes boys for being… boys. That their natural enthusiasms are often used against them. Listening to teachers and learning respect is of utmost importance, but when a little boy “fails” to sit perfectly during circle time, I have a hard time agreeing that this is “bad behavior”. A deeper and longer conversation for another day, but one that I continue to ponder and wrap my head around, one that I will continue to push back on as needed. 

I refuse to squash my sons’ spirits just for the sake of a constantly calm status quo.

Because I not only have my oldest son, a beautiful boy who literally jumps for joy all day long, bringing a smile to both our faces, but I also have two more little men in the making right behind him. They deserve a cheerleader and it’s my honor to take on that role.

PS. Stay tuned for an essay on the glory of girlhood coming soon ; )

Eager to read more? Here’s a few more links that may be of interest:

• The battles Liz bows down to as she’s entrenched in boyhood

• Prep for any Memorial Day trips with our travel issue

• Our ABOUT page! Get the 411 on us ;)

Rose:

Amelia - A simple joy: with more al fresco meals lately, I’ve been loving the creative process of setting a pretty table. I’ve kept it simple (just adding a tablecloth and some flowers) but thinking through how to mix colors and patterns has been both relaxing and fun.

Another highlight: instead of powering through our family admin to do list on tired Sunday nights, my husband and I started tackling it right after the morning bus drop off. Just 15-20 minutes twice a week, and we’ve already crossed off so much. It’s been a game changer!

Liz - It was a lovely return to routine this week (post the chaos of spring break) and Mother Nature showed off with sunny skies and warm temps. I’m trying to institute daily mental health walks and shocker - exercise feels good ha! I’ve enjoyed this time moving my body and listening to podcasts. This week I devoured Bad on Paper’s episode about a recent book I read (I did NOT enjoy this book so it was kind of jarring to hear how much others did!) and this interview by Meghan Markle with Reshma Saujani was really interesting. Reshma is a wealth of knowledge and her insights on motherhood and career hit home. (Amelia: Oooooh. This episode sounds great. I’m going to check it out on my flight. Thanks for sharing!)

Thorn:

Amelia - Actual thorn: realizing I still haven’t gotten my Real ID (whoops) and I’m cutting it very close by flying back to Boston just 48 hours before it becomes mandatory.

Also, I’m feeling all the feels. I have to admit, I turn into a bit of an emotional wreck during the final month of school. It happens every year, and instead of wondering why or asking what’s wrong with me, I’m choosing to accept it and maybe even embrace it!

For me, it’s the mix of end-of-year celebrations: class parties, plays, field trips, “Fly Up” day, Kindergarten graduation (!) and the anticipation of summer combined with my daughter’s birthday falling during those final school days. It’s all bittersweet, just a lot of emotion for me all at once.

Liz - As all mothers of school age children will understand, the next six weeks or so are nuts. Spring sports and activities, end of year events, SO MANY THINGS. Our calendar is full and I’m trying to not get too overwhelmed by it all. One week at a time is the name of the game.

Will be keeping this issue on the intensity and reality of Maycember by

Elizabeth Holmes

open in my browser for frequent reference. (Amelia : Omg. I’ve never heard the final month called “Maycember” but I love it. It’s soo true!)

Bud:

Amelia - As this post goes live, I’ll be flying solo (truly the best feeling as a mom!) to Charleston to celebrate my sister’s belated birthday with her and our mom. I can’t wait for long walks by The Battery, lots of laughs, and the rare treat of not being in charge of anyone but myself. : )

We’ll be revisiting a few favorite spots (Wentworth, Hart, Basic Kitchen and Babas) and hoping to try some new ones (fingers crossed we can snag a last minute res at Merci)!

Liz - Spring sports season finally really kicks off this week - it’s part of the Maycember chaos but also so much fun for my boys! So let’s do this! T-ball and soccer Thursday through Sunday! Will Otis participate!? We shall see ha!

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