On Having a Son

Whoa-I just had the strangest experience.  I had to go home to pick up Hannah (to bring her back to owrk with me) and on the way back here to the office, I caught a glimpse of a kid out of the corner of my eye.  I had a fleeting thought, "That kid is going to grow up to be a heartbreaker," and then suddenly realized it was my son, Eli.  He is 13 and a half, and has rather suddenly turned into this rather handsome young man.  On some level, of course I have been aware of the changes; after all, I buy the groceries and his clothes, so I well know that he is a growing boy (six inches now since school got out last May!).  On the other hand, his face is so familiar to me, like my own in the mirror, that I don't really notice. It took driving past him on the street and seeing him a totally different atmospehere to make me pay attention.

And he IS lovely, though I know he would kill me were he to find out I used that word in connection with him.  I have always related to the boys better than to Hannah, at least up until the last year or so; never have I had the patience for the girly-girl drama, the cat-fights, the emotional slamming of doors, at least until this year when there have been a lot of opportunities for the both of us to grow up a little.  But the boys!  They are wild and rough and smelly, yet utterly straightforward in their affections; I am never left to question just what I have done to piss them off, I don't have to try to navigate the minefield of their emotions, I just have to let them be the little animal creatures they are.  Now, though, this is new territory, where the dynamics are changing and I am going, soon, to be parenting MEN.  Young men, immature men, but men nonetheless.  I hope I am up to the task. 

There are moments, though, when I absolutely know that I am doing something right.  Last night, we were discussing birth control and my Eli popped up with this: "I don't understand why they only make birth control pills for girls.  It is just as much OUR fault as theirs that they get pregnant!"  Talk about a proud mama moment, realizing that sometime along the way, he has been listening.  Too, he loves his little brothers (he and Hannah are only 16 months apart, so at the moment, there is no love lost between the two of them), taking Owen outside for a scooter ride almost nightly, helping Sam build a truly spectacular fort in the backyard (using, I might add, thing he has culled from other people's garbage piles), giving them both rough little hugs when he thinks no one is looking.  He is by no means an abnormally nice boy; there have also been the fights at school and the time he got mad and broke one of the picture windows, so I am certainly not under any illusions about him.  However, those moments when I KNOW that he is turning out all right make the rest of it somehow worth it.

It won't be too long before he is one of those belligerent teen boys who have a snotty mouth.  He is strikingly handsome with his dyed red hair, bright blue eyes-and I hope he isn't one of the sneaky 15 year olds from whom you need to protect your daughter.  However, when I saw him on the way here, he was standing still, looking up at a power line on which a little squirrel was busily eatinga nut; okay, he was throwing rocks at it, but it didn't even flinch, so intent was he on eating, so Eli just stopped and watched.  In some ways, he is still my sweet, sturdy little boy, and I think I need to be grateful for every moment that he is.