Sometimes I feel totally unprepared to raise boys. It's not just dealing with the gender differences, the rough-housing, or the obsessions over bodily functions. What challenges me the most is that one day these boys will become men. And I, with Ben, am their appointed guide on their journey to manhood.
I think it's important for my boys to be good at relationships, and to know how to work out issues that arise with friends, family members, and future spouses.
They're already pros at getting into squabbles. My goal is to make them pros at getting out of them.
I've started letting them work out some things on their own, despite how much I cringe at the tiny cries of pain that Dylan may let out when Wyatt is too rough with him... or when Dylan accidentally hurls a bucket at Wyatt's head and he screams, "Don't do that!"
As hard as it to observe from another room, I've watched them learn the art of reconciliation.
I wait in the shadows, wanting desperately to interject my version of justice. But just when I think I can't stand it any longer, Wyatt will say, "I'm sorry Dylan, are you okay? I'm really sorry Dylan." And then they embrace.
Other times, Dylan will hurt Wyatt with his ox-like strength and say simply "Sorry." And with a sweet little kiss, all is forgiven. It's a beautiful thing.
I know that their relationship is strengthened by their ability to fight and to reconcile on their own. And it certainly strengthens me as a mom. As I watch my precious babies hurt each other, I wonder if I will ever survive raising boys. But then I see the outcome: two loving brothers... possibly bruised or bleeding... but with better relational skills than before.
Knowing they'll survive gives me the boost I need to keep going.
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