Raising Men

I would not be accused of coddling my boys. When they fell down, I usually said, "get up."

When Quinlan broke his collar bone and could only use one arm, I didn't allow him to neglect his chores. Sure, he whined a bit. I told him that he probably wasn't the first person to empty a dishwasher using only one hand.

The Many Faces of Quinlan

This is the lastest self-portrait of Quinlan. The child has always loved to have his picture taken, has been photogenic, and has enjoyed taking his own picture.

Here are more self portraits...

This is a self-portrait of Quinlan holding a self-portrait

Here are more pictures of Quin being Quin.


Quinlan in a hat he knit himself. He was so happy because the crazy yarn he used made it look like he had an afro.


Here he is trying out goggles in the bathtub.


Posing...

Quinlan sporting his B, Bart Simpson under pants, and vacuum hose--the ultimate super hero!


Like I tell Quinlan, "lucky you're cute!"

Honestly...

I believe in being honest with my children. So, before this photo was snapped I told Quinlan that he looked like a dork with his sweatshirt tucked into his shorts (I didn't say anything about his ears being pushed around by his hat). Now, of course, he wishes that he had listened to me. But honesty has its limits.
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Now if every mom is honest with herself she will admit that she is not completely honest with her children. How can she be? It may not be in the best interest of our children to be completely honest.

First, there are the fun lies we tell--the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny, Santa. These are lies we tell to bring joy to our children. These lies can also be used to help keep kids in line--why would the tooth fairy want a tooth that hadn't been properly brushed and flossed?

Then there are probabilistic lies. These are the lies we tell that might be true--fruit is candy that God made, all the good vitamins are in the bread crust, you grow when you sleep. (Evan really took that last one to heart and maybe it is true, the boy could sleep and grow.)

But I was opposed to telling my boys outright lies. So when we went to the doctor to get shots and they would ask, "is it going to hurt?" I would answer honestly, "yes." Naturally I would reassure them that the pain would go away and that the shot was less painful than the decease it would protect them from.

When Evan asked, after watching a Viagra commercial, "What is ED?" I told him. Then when he asked why that would be a problem, I told him that, too. We both felt a bit awkward, but it was honest.

When Quinlan was in fourth grade and testing revealed he was reading at a second-grade level, he asked, "Am I stupid?" I said, "No, you are two years behind other kids in reading and you are ahead of other kids in other things." Then I explained, "it means that when you are 42 you will be reading like a 40 year old, not a big deal." A probabilistic lie? No, honest.

When Evan was in the sixth grade he was reading significantly above his grade level. He wanted to slack off on his daily reading. He said, "I'm already a good reader." I said, "Sure, you are a pretty good reader for a 12 year old. But you are a lousy reader for a 40 year old. So get your butt in your room and read." Honest.

Homework Help

We were very happy when Quinlan graduated from high school. His favorite teacher was the detention teacher--seriously, he wrote her a thank-you note and bought her a gift. But it may be better to let Quinlan share that story.

Like other dutiful moms, I supervised homework for both of my boys. However, sometimes they came home with fairly lame homework. I became particularly irritated when they brough home word searches. I don't think a word search is a good way to spend time (this from a woman who can spend hours playing Scrabble online).

When the boys, especially Quinlan, brought home a word search for homework I would tell them that I would do their word search and they were to go read a book. I would circle a word or two now and then--it would take me at least 45 minutes to complete a word search. I figured that it was better for my boys to use that time reading and they felt like they were getting away with something.

What Goes Around Comes Around

I'm a pretty fast walker. The combination of my long legs and impatience makes it so I can move at a pretty good clip.

When the boys were small we would walk together, but I would not slow down.

Evan would say, "Mom, slow down."

"If you can't keep up, you better run," I'd say.

And so he would. I would walk, hold Evan's hand, and he would run along side me.

Now Evan's legs are something like four feet long. The last time we walked together I had a difficult time keeeping up with him.

"Come on Son," I said, "you have to slow down so I can keep up with you!"

"Maybe you are going to have to run," he replied.