Boys to Men

My boys searched for a good fishing spot Saturday morning. Apparently three docks over the fish are more plentiful. It had nothing to do with the pretty little blonde girl they discovered the night before. When the boys returned Roy asked the oldest "Any luck?" Zach replied "No, she wasn't there." Roy and I exchanged amused glances and Roy said "I meant did you catch any fish." Zach blushed. We laughed. This past year has been hard on me as I've watched my son make the transition from boy to man. Victoria's Secret catalogues have gone missing to later turn up stuffed into an underwear drawer. Eyes have popped out of my son's head when hoochie girls pass by. Puberty has reared its ugly head and caught me by surprise. I thought I had more time. I thought this didn't start until boys were twelve. This stage so far has been harder than colic, endless poopy diapers, baby puke, countless sleepless nights, and helping him learn how to read. The girl part was just the surprising although kind of comical part of puberty. The hardest and foreign part has been the violence that comes with the testosterone. Zach had to stand up to a bully on the bus. A boy on the bus called Zach names. Zach being an unfortunate product of his gene pool couldn't just ignore the boy. He had to out do him. The crowd was with him and the laughter resulting from his cut downs egged him on. The boy frustrated at being so obviously outwitted turned to violence. As the bus dropped the kids off at the school he punched Zach in the stomach. Zach hit him back. They parted ways, but knew this would not be the end. Zach got into the car and relayed what had happened. The frustration, anger and fear so clearly evidenced in my son's face about killed me. My first reaction, although never voiced, was to not let him ride the bus ever again! Truthfully, if I did not have a husband that is probably exactly what I would have done. My husband being a man saw things differently. I deferred to him as this was his turf. He told my son that it was OK to be afraid. He told him that inspite of his fear he had to get back on the bus. He taught him how to fight. He told him that you had to stick up for yourself or that this boy would never leave him alone. Bullies like easy targets that don't fight back. He told him that even if he lost the fight he would survive. He ended by telling him that he was never to throw the first punch. He was never to start a fight. My father-in-law and my brother also added to the advice. This was a man thing and I had to step back and watch. Roy told me "He has to get on the bus. He has to conquer fear. Fear makes you do stupid things." So with sadness and fear and complete nausea I waited for Zach to get off the bus that day. It turned out that several parents had called in to complain about this boy so he was given an assigned seat and was not allowed to walk the school halls unaccompanied. I was so relieved that my son came home blood free. As a parent you want to protect your children. You don't want them to feel pain. You'd gladly take on all of their pain. Today I heard a story that best illustrates why you have to let your children experience pain. I'm sure you've heard this one, but here it goes. A women tried to ease the pain and struggle of a butterfly emerging from the Chrysalis. She helped it free itself. When the butterfly emerged it could not fly. It's wings were not strong enough. It needed the struggle to strengthen and open it's wings. Knowing this doesn't make it any easier.