FOR MY SONS

Who Are Already Great!

by Natz Graham

They say a mother without a daughter is a mother in waiting. They seem to think a mother’s ‘real’ lessons are wasted on boys. “They” need to take a seat and pay attention, because I’ve got a lot to say about that.

My sons are my joy. I despair over their grass stains and rejoice in their imaginations. I count the hours until they’re asleep, but tiptoe into their rooms to hear them breathe. I alternate between imagining their gorgeous, future babies and talking myself down from non-existent fights with their non-existent wives. These sons are my world.

So of course I wonder what kinds of people they’ll turn out to be. What kind of student, what kind of worker…what kind of dad.

Ithink about my own dad, who is still not one for the soft words, but who will ALWAYS show up for me. My dad is the kind who builds stuff, fixes stuff, delights in his 52-piece tool kit gifts. When I was an 8-year old migraine-sufferer, he would drive around at 2am until he found the exact addresses of parties playing their music too loudly so the police knew where to show up to shut it down. Yeah that was us, sorry.

Then there’s my husband, who’s been just the most in love, involved dad ever from day one. He’s never needed to be told when is bedtime, or what bath time should look like. He tucks them in and reads them stories. He does pick ups and drop offs and playdates. I have many mom friends who sigh enviously watching him work.

My dad and my husband have almost no overlaps, but they’re both amazing dads.

That’s how I know that the secret to raising the next generation of great dads really comes down to raising great HUMANS.

But how do you even begin doing that?

For me, I’ve stuck with what I know best: I give them words.

Just as we teach them ‘milk’ and ‘mama’, before they could speak I also taught them words like “sleepy”, “hungry”, “happy”. I taught them that not only was it okay to have feelings, but it was okay to name them and to ask for help with them.

I want my small sons to grow into large sons who can still say “I’m angry” and “I’m hurt” and know the difference between the two. How to heal with “I’m sorry.” “I forgive you.” “I love you.” I want them to understand that “frustration” only feels like

“despair”; how to choose between “action” and “reaction”. I want them to understand

"I TAUGHT THEM THAT NOT ONLY WAS IT OKAY TO HAVE FEELINGS, BUT IT WAS OKAY TO NAME THEM AND TO ASK FOR HELP WITH THEM."

“privilege” and “disadvantage”… to use the former fairly, and fight the latter wisely.

I don’t want to shove a broom in their hands and bellow “SWEEP!”. I want them to look at the messy floor and see “problem” then look at the mop and think “solution”. I want them to view “cooking” as “caring” and see “nurturing” as its own kind of power; that it’s NOT the opposite of “strength”. I want them to dance if they want to dance, and play if they want to play; to run, build, create. I want them to know all the ways to say “freedom”. I don’t just want to teach them “church”, I want their very souls to sing “God”. I want them to live with their hearts wide open, but their hands on guard and to know that the words they’re looking for are “Wisdom”. “Preparation.” “Protection.”

These words are my love. My lessons. My prayers. I’ll weave them into lullabies and time-outs and everything in between. I’ll give my sons the words they need to make their way through this world strong, confident and whole. My lessons will not be wasted. Our sons are worthy students of all we know. Give them everything they need to be great. There are generations waiting for these truths.

Call her Creative Director, Blogger, Wife and Mom, Natalie justs needs to write. Follow her at Napalilli.wordpress.com or twitter.com/napalilli

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BY NORMA WILLIAMS