Wednesday, May 22nd, 2013
2 years, 6 months.
This morning before I dropped you off at school, I told you I wanted to take a picture of you wearing your cool sunglasses for Nonna and Papa.
Without hesitation, this is how you posed:
You instantly crossed your arms like a classic tough guy!
How did you know to do that? It’s not something I’ve ever specifically taught you.
Yet somehow, you knew that because you were getting your picture taken with your black skull-and-crossbones sunglasses (which you identify as “robots”) you instinctively knew that meant to look as masculine as possible.
So you did.
After laughing about this picture all day, a deep thought finally crossed my mind:
I am your main model of masculinity. You get free testosterone lessons from me everyday.
Sure, I know the importance of you getting regular exposure to a positive male role model.
But this goes beyond that. In fact, it’s more subtle than that. The way I walk, talk, play, react… you’re catching clues from my daily performance.
You are learning to be a boy (and ultimately, a man) according to my free lessons.
I take it as a compliment that you are a strong-willed yet polite little boy. That’s pretty much what I’m aiming for.
It’s important to me that you are a true Southern gentleman when it’s all said and done.
I want to know you’ll always stand up for yourself and protect others, yet not be an instigator.
It’s no secret: I am raising and training you to be a leader among others.
Sure, I may err on the side of bravado here, but I love to see that at just 2 and a half, you already sort of remind me of the toddler version of Bruce Willis.
I can easily imagine you driving a motorcycle away from a fiery explosion; like in every cliche action movie trailer I’ve ever seen.
You’re the man.
Add a Comment
Saturday, March 9th, 2013
2 years, 3 months.
You are a boy… and you definitely act like it. You make it so obvious that little boys are wired much differently than little girls.
It’s a rare sight to find you without some kind of overly masculine (and therefore predictably goofy) Hot Wheels car clenched tightly in your hand, whether it’s on the car ride to day care, watching Hard Hat Harry on Netflix at the house, or even navigating your way around any given playground.
At no point do you ever need me to tell you what little boys should like. You are currently obsessed with monster trucks, but it’s not something I prompted.
You just saw a toy monster truck one day and asked me, “I can like that? I take it home?”
The answer was obviously yes. Now you have like 7 of them.
One of your daily routines on the way to school now is to go through the colors of the rainbow in reference to monster trucks and/or Jeep Wranglers:
“I have a blue monster truck? I can drive it?”
I will reply, “Jack has a blue monster truck… He drives it!”
Next you’ll say the truck (or Jeep) is black, orange, purple, or even pink. Twice now you asked for a “dinosaur Jeep.” I’m still trying to figure that one out…
I contrast this against what I see the girls your age doing at daycare. They are always tending to either the baby dolls or the pretend kitchen and food; meanwhile the boys are wandering around, looking for trouble… I mean adventure.
It’s not that I have to stereotype little boys versus little girls. That’s just naturally how it ends up.
Even if you want to drive a pink monster truck or Jeep, the fact is still that you want to drive a monster truck or Jeep.
It would be different if you were fantasizing about a VW Bug, Mini Cooper, Mazda Miata, Dodge Neon, or a Toyota Rav 4.
I say you just can’t hide your masculinity, even behind the color pink.
Add a Comment