Mortified Pride

We have crossed into a territory that is new to me. I am a woman. I experienced many things as an adolescent, a teenager learning about my body and what was happening to it, how to handle it, what to do, what not to do. All of my experiences from two perspectives – my own, but mostly, a female’s.

I will save you from the stories of angst and pain I suffered. The stories of humiliations I experienced. I will spare you because as an adult I believe that even those I saw during those years of “having it all good” most likely have their own stories of pain and humiliation, just as I suspect you do, too.

My oldest child is a girl, a daughter. So I felt fairly well prepared to assist her when she needed it as she approached that place when we feel like we are aliens in a new body, learning new things about ourselves. Telling her all the urban legends I could remember from my early teen years about what was happening and could or could not happen and how it could or could not happen. You know, biology, the facts.

But this new territory in front of which I stand is a bit scary and startling for me. This is the very same territory before which I have stood just a few short years ago. This time the territory has a new face, it has the face of my oldest boy, my second child.

I ache with pain as I see him go through the halting and haunting moments of hormonal surges through his body. I ache as I watch him struggle with all the confusing feelings. It’s like spinning in infinity at one moment that stops as quickly as it begins. He loves/hates/hurts/laughs all in a moment that feels like going from 90mph to 0mph in half a second. His is struggling to figure it out and balance it against what his head knows.

I expected what I saw in my daughter. I was not surprised by the door slamming or the stomping or even the outbursts of tears and screams that “no one understands.” Because in that moment that is what is feels like. It is a feeling of total solitude. While the biology of it is the same between women, the experience is personal. I did my best to balance the kid gloves with the tough love. Reminding her to use the moment to learn her body and what it is telling her. Reminding her of the rules of the house and the manner in which others are to be treated. There were a few days in which she had no door to her room because she chose not to stop slamming it. Ignoring her responsibilities or schoolwork because she would rather sulk and listen to her emo/teen angst music via her iPod left her without her iPod a few times. Usually, little things like this would bring her back to the balance that was necessary.

This boy of mine, I love so much, is stepping into very new territory for the both of us and I feel very ill-equipped to handle it. The words of experience from my husband mean very little to me because they are the words of his experience, not my own. I understand as much as I can (you know, biology, the facts and no experience) and while my son has his father to turn toward, I am the one here more often.

He has done a fairly good job of controlling his anger from showing it outright. This summer things changed a bit.

A Short History

A short history from my perspective: A number of years ago when we put the children in school halfway through the year (back when Bairno was born) my son met another boy and the two of them became friends. It was a strange thing to watch. My son waxed and waned with his desire to like this boy. Well, he liked him, but they were kind of oil and water. (They didn’t mix alone, but with other ingredients they make a great cake.) They had many things in common, but just as many differences. These differences weighed more in my son’s eyes than the commonality. My son really wanted to like this boy, but struggled greatly. This boy is not a bully, but there were many times this boy would speak out of turn or so bluntly that he was unaware of the hurt he was throwing and my son felt hurt. There were days he would come home from school obviously full of aggravation this boy had caused him. Other days he would come home all excited and wanting to tell me about what the two of them did on the playground that day. Sounds fairly typical.

Over the years we got to know the other family better through Boy Scouts. We really like this family. They boys have grown and matured, but they are still boys. I want to be careful with what I say here because it could be taken the wrong way and I don’t want that. At all.

Putting it Together

Now let me try to put this together. It was earlier in the summer while Boy Scout camp was going on when the big moment happened. It was the last night of camp, the big camp fire when awards were given and the boys showed off their newly learned skills. RevMrKnowTea went out to help break camp, pack Mc12′s things in the back of the ‘burb and stay for the campfire. Mc was the only one in his troop that stayed because he had taken the signaling class and he had to stay and perform some semaphore at the campfire.

Mortified

RevMrKnowTea got out there and sent a text saying, “I’m here.”

Me: Have you seen Mc yet?

RMKT: Yes. He was very upset when I got here.
L was apparently bullying him & backed him up to a tree. Mc gave him a bloody nose. I told him it was OK and now maybe L won’t bother him.

Me: How’s L? And where were the adults? I’m proud of him for standing up for himself.

RMKT: L is OK. This was right after dinner. Not sure where adults were at time. B [L's dad] told Mc that with L’s mouth it won’t be his last bloody nose either. :-) Mc is still very upset he’d hurt L.

Me: OK, so all is good? Did Mc apologize? Did L accept? Did L apologize? Did Mc accept?

RMKT: Yes, both have apologized and are good.

So the rest of the story related to me is this: L had found and carved a walking stick while at camp and apparently (according to the boys) had gotten rather attached to it. Honestly each one of these boys would have “gotten rather attached” to it, at least I know my boy would have. L took his walking stick every where he went at camp and some of the boys were teasing him about it. Right after dinner as they were walking back to camp and Mc joined in on a bit of the teasing. He says this was the only time he joined in and he knew immediately it was wrong. But he chose to say one more thing and L backed him against the tree. I don’t know at this point exactly what was said, but there were words. I have no idea if Mc told L to back off or not. L is about a foot taller than Mc. So Mc swung and gave L a bloody nose. And then realized what he had done.

Neither party was innocent, but there’s a bit of “boys will be boys” mixed with growing pains, milestones, and “attaboy” thrown in. There was a bit more discussion later between Mc and his father about other ways to handle it. Not to mention there was discussion about teasing. I think that lesson was learned as well. Consequences of our actions often teach us big lessons as long as we keep our eyes, ears, and mind open to the lessons in life.

Pride

I am not proud of my son for hurting another person. Mc is a very empathetic person (most of the time). He has a big heart for those that hurt, very much like his big sister. As soon as he reacted and punched L the thought that he had hurt another person struck him and L’s dad had to help comfort my boy: “Mc, L is fine. It’s just a bloody nose. It wasn’t his first and with his mouth it won’t be his last.” I chuckled when that got relayed to me because as a mom I totally understand that point of view as well. Maybe the consequences haven’t been a bloody nose, but, yeah, some lessons are hard learned.

I was proud about two other things. My son stood up for himself when it mattered, when he felt physically threatened. He made a decision, he acted on it, he saw and felt the consequences of his actions based on that decision. We have always taught our children that hitting is wrong; we don’t hit. While we teach them that hitting is wrong, we’ve never really had a situation where self-defense was a necessity (outside of sibling arguments). We’ve left that out of discussions. Obviously, common sense says fight back. Even if Mc wasn’t really in danger he felt it and he took charge of the care of himself.

The first thing I was proud of was that my boy, my tiny 18 inch long, 6 pound 14 ounce newborn baby boy has taken another step in his four feet ten inch 108 pound walk to manhood. He stood up for himself in way he had not yet needed to do. He did not need us there to step in and help. He might have wanted one of us there, but he did not need one of us there.

The second thing that made me proud was that he felt bad for hurting another person. He didn’t hurt someone and walk away. He only acted in self-defense and even in that he ached that he hurt another individual.

He also learned a great deal about himself that day. He experienced a situation that showed him he could handle some things without us, he gained a bit of independence, a bit more of his manhood, that day. He learned what if felt like to hurt someone. I don’t want him to forget that. More importantly, he learned he did not like it. I do not want him to forget that either. That is a lesson I am glad he learned. He also learned a bit about himself, that balancing the mind and body is important.

Even moms have growing pains.