“Choose his father well.”
As Grokster Susan (and my Youngest) say often: indeed. Forget about that pop culture is now telling us – raising a son, even a normal one (with both sons being ADHD, I’ll never know what the “easier side” of raising such was like) is not easy. Pop culture says to indulge YOURSELF – and let them do what they want. Nonsense! When you and your husband made to decision that could lead to having a baby boy, you owned that responsibility come hell or high water (or sometimes, both, and more). I came across this post a while ago on what I considered a good start of raising that son, and this lady said it well: best results start with choosing well with his father (emphasis mine):
Lately on Facebook, several versions of what it means to be a little boy’s mama have been circulating. They are touching, and bring a smile to your face, a touch of nostalgia, and perhaps even a tear to your eye. You are exhorted to have lots of energy, be ready to put up with bloody noses and reptiles in the house, see movies you don’t like, and various other true things.
We mamas of little boys have a tough job. We deserve a little smile as we ponder our muddy offspring. As I type this, my just recently de-mudded grandson is graciously allowing me a few minutes to recoup from a busy day of swimming, mud bogging, dump trucking, and hugging stinky dogs. His sister hung right in there with him. So, yes, we even need these moments that tell our hearts that our efforts are special moments that will unfold in a story book life for our beloved sons.
However, we also need some harder truths, and now is a good time to take a look at that. So, here’s my version, for what it’s worth.
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