I am the middle child of three girls. When I found out my first baby was a boy, I was apprehensive. Of course, I already lived with a boy....my husband. But, he was a grownup who thought for himself. And I could openly display my bewilderment over his fascination with fast, loud, big things blowing up after they crash into each other because they are angry about something the other one said that was arrogant and insulting. "That's so weird...why do you like that? Are you really that twisted? How can you you enjoy watching those people shoot each other? Let's watch Sleepless in Seattle."
No problem, right? My 20 something husband could stand his ground. He did not internalize my disapproval and develop low self-esteem. Nor was he intimidated by my lack of appreciation for his boyish interests. When my eyes glazed over from utter disinterest as he told me about a video game, no problem. He did not expect me to actually care about his boring computer game. In fact, I'm sure he would not have even bothered to brag to me about his gaming skills if I hadn't asked.
At age 26, I gave birth to a son. Initially, not a problem. Apart from diaper changes, not much is different between a baby boy and a baby girl. The first indication that things were heading into unfamiliar territory was his first word...."ball". Maybe it was "Dada"....I'm not sure, but "ball" was at least his second word! BALL. Okay, no problem....he's cute and I can toss this little stuffed soccer ball back and forth with my cuddly little baby. But then the balls got harder and his throwing faster. Then he started hitting people! It seemed to be his main form of communication. Four months before Jonah was born, a dear friend gave birth to a girl, who was often my son's target. Poor little sweet gentle baby girl didn't really like playing with my wild little boxer. (Interestingly, my friend's second child was a boy and my second child was a girl, but I dont recall any violence between them.) The mystery of my son continues and evolved into new mysteries.
No problem, right? My 20 something husband could stand his ground. He did not internalize my disapproval and develop low self-esteem. Nor was he intimidated by my lack of appreciation for his boyish interests. When my eyes glazed over from utter disinterest as he told me about a video game, no problem. He did not expect me to actually care about his boring computer game. In fact, I'm sure he would not have even bothered to brag to me about his gaming skills if I hadn't asked.
At age 26, I gave birth to a son. Initially, not a problem. Apart from diaper changes, not much is different between a baby boy and a baby girl. The first indication that things were heading into unfamiliar territory was his first word...."ball". Maybe it was "Dada"....I'm not sure, but "ball" was at least his second word! BALL. Okay, no problem....he's cute and I can toss this little stuffed soccer ball back and forth with my cuddly little baby. But then the balls got harder and his throwing faster. Then he started hitting people! It seemed to be his main form of communication. Four months before Jonah was born, a dear friend gave birth to a girl, who was often my son's target. Poor little sweet gentle baby girl didn't really like playing with my wild little boxer. (Interestingly, my friend's second child was a boy and my second child was a girl, but I dont recall any violence between them.) The mystery of my son continues and evolved into new mysteries.
Pokémon? What the?!
I know my assignment as Jonah's mother is to pour into him so that he will internalize my love and approval and be secure in his own value. What does "pour abundantly into him" mean? For Jonah, it means showing genuine interested (at least my best impression of it) in how he earned 50,000 points while playing his computer game when he found the tools.....or weapons.....or powers....or something like that and then went to level 12 and now he can't turn the computer off...ever....because then he will lose his level.
Jonah needs me to show appreciation for what he values and be proud of his accomplishments doing the things he cares about. I never new that would be so hard to do. I have hope. First of all, he has a father who does not have to fake interest because they share this strange love for explosions and competition. So, there's that....but there's more.
Yesterday, Jonah was snuggled up to me on my bed. As he settled in, he squeezed my arm and told me I was the best mommy in the world. With my heart swelling I asked him, "Yeah? Thanks, Jonah. Why am I the best mommy in the world" to which he replied, "Because you're gentle."
