Boy Crazy and Grateful about It

Are you a parent of a boy? I am. But you probably know that already. Yes, I have been blessed with two healthy, wonderful boys. One brown eyed, thoughtful Star Wars loving kindergartner and one blonde, 40 lb two year old who bubbles over every emotion and sentiment he feels. Good kids. No, they really are. But after almost 6 years as a mom, I feel its time I share with you a certain phenomenon that occurs with boys. Maybe you are already familiar with it. And maybe it happens with girls too (I’m not sure though since I am only in the business of boys). But still. Something happens with boys. And if you don’t understand what its about, the order of your semi put together world will explode into a million lego pieces in the blink of one sweet, long lashed, little boy’s eye.

So yeah. Boys? They get crazy.

No, I mean it.

And I don’t think this kind of “crazy” is a bad thing really, its just some sort of natural occurrence that seems part of their make-up. Beneath the surface of every little boy, nestled within their gears and cogs and built in tendency to recreate bodily functions, there lies a significantly sized reservoir of craziness. And everyday, slowly but surely, it fills right up. And if you don’t get their shoes on, unlock the door and herd those boys right on out and into the light, the crazy will top up and spill out, leaving in its wake the remnants of your living room in unexpected, like a mac truck hit it, tore up shambles.

So everyday I make time and space for the crazy. Like two cute, smiley eyed pressure cookers, I make sure I tap it from both of them. Get that crazy out, OUT, I say. Whether its running in circles or screaming you can’t catch me and nanny nanny boo boos or riding bikes as fast as they can up and down the sidewalk or playing hide and seek at the playground – the result is the same. The crazies get tapped. We can return back inside. They can sit still in their seats. Consuming dinner quietly and carefully. Homework can get done. Peace in the land. The universe returns back into its previous state of (sorta, kinda, if you squint with one eye and don’t look at my kitchen floors) order.

And my boys are certainly self aware about it too.

“Mom, are we going to the park to get my crazies out?”

“You got it.”

“Ok.”

And they know. As soon as they get out of the car, they tear off: yelling, jumping, leaping, spinning, rolling, tagging, screaming, laughing until they finally jog back to me and rest their heads on my hip, almost as if to say “Thanks. I’m good now.”

And they are. My boys are good. And the crazies are good. Its just my job as mommy to know when they need out. Its just my job to know how to manage the wonderful physicality of boys which will eventually be focused into something (hopefully, please make it be) productive. But for now, let them leap. And for now, I’ll do what we can to make sure its just not off my couch.

*********

I wrote this post last night, sitting in my peaceful living room after having tucked my two exhausted boys in for the evening. I saved it as a draft and went to bed. This morning, I woke up to read the news on Twitter that a fellow blogger, Heather Spohr, had lost her daughter over night. I met Heather briefly at BlogHer last year and have followed her blog about her beautiful daughter Maddie ever since. Sure, I can’t say I am a personal friend. And yet this news has utterly broken my heart today. I simply can not imagine the horrible, breath-sucking, searingly painful void the loss of her daughter has left. As any mother does, I think about the quirky little wants and needs our kids have… gone. I think about the sounds they make… gone. Their smell. Their laugh. The weight of them. The light they shine into every crack of a room. Just gone.

And so, as I post today about the outrageous, excessive amount of life my children have, I want to leave you honoring the life that all of our children have. What beautiful, impossible to contain, joyous gifts they are.

Please send thoughts and prayers of peace and love to Heather and her family right now. While her blog has been overwhelmed by visitors and may not always load for you, please visit A Mom Two Boys for more information. And please consider donating to Maddie’s March of Dimes fund to honor her very short life. Thank you.