I Lost my Son to DSi

I still have my older son, he plays now and then, but my middle son is obsessed. He was 5 when his 7 year old brother got a Dsi (like a Gameboy) from his grandparents. He watched with an intensity as his brother played, he was stuck... like gum on the underside of the fast food table. He stared and tracked every move made with the eye of a sharpshooter. When he got his own Dsi at 6 it was like God descended upon earth and gave him his calling.

We knew it was coming...the world of video games. I was adamantly opposed at first, so rigid, I was right and video games were wrong. My husband had even purged the house of his video games, knowing that if they were within reach they would be of influence to our boys...and to him.
Yes, we place limits on the type of game, amount of time and they have to trade off game time for TV, so they really don't play much...it's just the obsession that I grapple with.They suck you in,those games...hours can go by if we aren't vigilant, and nothing is accomplished, no connection, no real skill, no result of value that can be competed and acknowledged within a social arena that we relate to...no trophy that can be displayed...
In short, video games, Dsi's, Gameboys, etc...hand held zombie inducing boxes of vile brainwashing, just numb the personality and creativity.
That's one point of view, anyway.

Tonight I took a walk with two of my three boys after dinner. The other stayed home to finish homework with Dad. Bodee my 6 year old and Bronson my 3 year old walked around the block with me twice. Bronson ran ahead of us, pointing out the perils ahead, the Halloween decorations that glowed and lurked on either side of us.
Bodee however was in a talkative mode. I don't remember if I asked him about his day or what he learned, but he was suddenly explaining the process of defeating the Big Bosses in his Pokeman game on his Dsi. With great detail, he told me about the powers of Ember and Pikichu and many more. He lit up when I asked for more. We seriously agreed on our protest regarding the fact that if you defeated a Big Boss you didn't become a Big Boss. He looked me in the eye earnestly when he explained what he was doing to get to the next Boss, not level, and defeat him. He described the Pokeman that he invented himself, Eggy, and his dinosaur powers, with with pride and passion.He was an expert. His confidence impressed me immensely.
Then I realized.

We live in Orange County. There is no wood to cut or stack, cow to feed and grow or ditch to dig...no country chore after school which has my son feel accomplished. There is no money to receive in his sweaty palm after a morning newspaper run. There is no farm to plant or harvest, no tractor to fix or corn to sell. There is no boxing match bet or lemonade stand that could reap enough reward to turn his head from the modern day possibilities in gaming. In my father's day, all those other things could have occupied him, and similar things did. He occasionally listened to the radio and went to the 25 cent matinee movie...but besides that, earning money to help support his family, picking and selling blueberries, working whenever and wherever he could, no matter where...all made a real difference for his family.

Our boys want to make a difference. Be someone. Do something. Now. Not someday after high school or college. Now.

In temperate Orange County suburbia, we don't have the opportunity for that besides an occasional chore of trash, dishes or sweeping. We are so crammed into our cul de sacs and perfectly trimmed associations that hire only fifty-ish year old immigrants with leather like skin from Mexico that can out mow a preteen in seconds flat, that there is no room for working the land.
Our boys play video games because they get to feel accomplished. They get to win. They get to feel like a hero.

I want that for my son. I want him to build his muscle of feeling like a hero until that just is the way it is for him. Who he is to the world, and to himself, is someone who is accomplished, victorious, and masterful.

I will keep looking for other places in which we can balance out his access to success. Cub Scouts, a new sport, science experiments after school,hikes and adventures, all create a multi faceted and multi talented boy.


In the meantime, because it matters to him, I will look into his deep brown eyes filled with excitement, importance and confidence, and ask him again to describe the details of his Pokeman world. As he shares with me like a best friend would in the quiet of a treehouse, I get that, in those moments between us of curiosity and self expression, I have my son back.

Zen Honeycutt

Boys will be Boys

" Boys will be boys" a tired looking Mom would say with an exasperated but knowing sigh. I was in my early twenties and completely repelled by young boys, wrinkling my nose when a eight year old would push past me in a restaurant.I would feel sorry for them and anyone who had boys or had to be around boys. What a pain in the rear they are....so dirty and violent and spazzy. ECCCH. I hope I have girls someday.

Today I have three boys, 7, 5 and 21 months. I am in the middle of mayhem: spitting, wrestling, screeching, farting, burping,rocket ship blast noises,shooting, teasing, Indian rope burns, wet willies in ears, pee pee underwear balled up in corners, rocks in beds, boys falling off chairs and loud thunks of things bouncing off walls.

And I love it. Okay, not always. Sometimes I am to the limit of dirt and camping vacations. Mommy needs silence, a nice hotel and spa with hand and foot impeccable service.
But I can say, Thanks to my husband, my boys, and some great courses, I GET boys now. I actually marvel at them and delight in their quirks, talents, instincts, motivations and expressions.

I noticed that the other day when standing in the shade at the park, watching my boys play. My eldest was being chased by two younger boys. They were ganging up on him and Ben stopped, stood there and smirked at them. One of the smaller boys mother scolded them, exasperated, " Boys be NICE. Can't you just play NICELY???"

They turned and looked at us, with a blank look, moths gaped open, eyes completely checked out. Huh? Do you speaka my language?? they seemed to say...It struck me that boys have NO Interest in playing nice. Not even when they are the ones being chased. Girls play nice. Girls connect and play house and marry themselves off. Boys don't strive for "Nice". They do play nicely, they just don't strive for it. They want conquest, conflict, struggle and conquering! YES! Chase me! Then I will chase you!! "PSSHHHT! PSHHHT!" You're dead!"

"Boys, when given the choice between Right and Fun , will always choose FUN. " -Allison Armstrong.www.paxprograms.com

And they do..not to be naughty. It's just their instinctual, primal drive...fun fun FUN! It's play war, play battle, play conquering.WIN!!! It prepares then for the challenge of providing for their mate someday. It's practice for being a man.

Teachers who don't get this have a helluva time in the classroom. In a classroom boys are not set up to win, they are expected to sit, listen and behave...be nice...sooooo boring for them. I am guessing most female teachers are constantly annoyed by boys. They might see boys as dirty, spazzy, misbehaving GIRLS. When they expect boys to behave like girls they are constantly disappointed, exhausted by, and frustrated by boys. Anyone would be.
It's all about the context.

Now, when I think "Boys will be boys." it's with a new context, a newfound relish and peace of mind. They are doing what they are doing and I love them. I love their drive to help me, provide for me, save their friends and rescue people. Boys are relentlessly driven to be the hero. Their wiggle worm antics and noises of interruption are their way of preparing to battle, conquer and provide for a beautiful girl someday.
That's marvelous.
Those girls will be so lucky.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

Where's My Bumper Sticker?

" Student of the Month at Blah Blah Elementary " used to make me roll my twenty something eyes...and when Hollywood actor parents were asked in interviews "What is your greatest accomplishment?" and they seriously said, "My children." I would get irritated to the point of hollering at the TV..."But they are not YOU!"
I would steam from the ears that these silly parents actually took all the credit for their kids accomplishments.
Yes, they had sex (as any animal can do), yes, they gave birth (which I hear is painful, but again, natural), and fed and clothed them as any decent human being would do...beyond that, I was sure as sugar and right as rain that those kids were their own accomplishments, responsible for themselves...not their parents shining glory.
It was downright annoying to see parents crowing about their kids. For Gods sake get a life and let your kids be who they are! I would think.

The funny thing is my parents pretty much did that. You would think, from my reaction, that I would have helicopter hovering parents, but I didn't. They were incredible. They let me go to the school of my dreams, a private boarding school for high school, an hour and a half away from home, called Choate Rosemary Hall. At 13 I was living away from home in a dorm like a college student in a school that looked like and prepped kids for, Yale. I was stunned by the freedom and responsibility I had gained all in a moment of "Yes, you can go".

I walked around the campus in awe of the whole idea, teenagers trusted and treated almost like adults, taught with insanely challenging methods and expected to perform at college levels. I was intensely curious about and slightly intimidated by, the other students that I likened to Rockefeller's and Kennedy's. I loved it, made my path and made good friends there. I knew it was a privilege for me to have received a scholarship and I was set on achieving. And I did.
My parents expected me to as well. They were proud of me, but they didn't send me gifts or money with every good grade. They didn't brag to their friends about my accomplishments. They expected me to do well and didn't take credit for it when I did. And they gave me freedom to choose.

Now, as I raise three boys and revel in their exploding personality developments...Ben is already a "Great Artist!" in his own words, and Bodee is a fierce competitor, Awesome at anything he does. Bronson is too young to be able to tell what he will excel at, but after three children, I get that he will find his passion. I see that, on one hand, as I parent, I am responsible for exposing my kids to different opportunities, to encourage them, guide them and be there for them when they give up hope on their dreams. The fortitude it takes, the patience, the commitment to be there and clean up when they are puking at 2am or drive them 6 places in a day or hold them when I would rather holler at them...all of that takes an inner strength that deserves acknowledgment. Parents have a very challenging job,albeit that they chose, and deserve kudos.

At the same time, on the other hand, who our kids end up being also can have nothing to do with us. They have their own worlds in their heads. They see things completely differently. They have their own lives, as Kahlil Gibran says...that we cannot visit, not even in our dreams...

Our children make their own choices every day, to do or not do the homework, to read or not read at school. To spit or not spit on the kid next to them. They choose all that. As a Mom I can say what I will, I can guide, threaten, cajole and plead..and try to reason til I am blue in the face....but when it comes down to it, it's all entirely their choice.

So I revel in their choices. I am fascinated by their gumption, interests and their accomplishments that have everything/nothing to do with me. And someday I will put the bumper sticker on the back of my car "Student of the Month", heck maybe I will even make one that says "My Kids Rock!" because they do. I enjoy them. They are their own bad selves and I celebrate them.

Zen Honeycutt
www.zenspurplegarden.com

This photo was taken leaving a Moms Club Spring Picnic, filled with food, games, toys and sweets, and on the way to a birthday party, a perfect day for kids, so we declared it " Kids Day", celebrating Kids, and Bodee declared it "The Best Day Ever!"

Oh Boy! Oh Boy! Oh Boy!

Moments of truth from my boys:

After Bronson, 18 months old screeched and I saw Bodee push him, "Bodee! Don't push him, he's just a baby, be careful!" "He's NOT a baby Mom!" "Yes, he is. " I argue pointlessly. Bodee insists, "NOOOOOOOO he isn't, he just hit me too! He's grown up!"


"Mom, he has one eye." Bodee informs me seriously, about a house guest, right in front of him, who indeed has one working eye..."he's like a Pirate! Cool!"

"First you go left, and then right and right again and then left and then right and the Kendo class is right there." Bodee's directions to Kendo class which were exactly correct after the second time.

"I am a Great Artist!" Ben, who is indeed. And in fact just had his art accepted by the City Hall Young Masters Art Show...where's my bumper sticker?

I could go on and on, I have some real gems in their baby journals as well. My boys fascinate me.
The way Bodee lowers his voice like a threatening machine when he talks about Bakugan ( some kind of Japanese robot toy). The way Bronson can take my lipstick out of my purse and with lips pursed and shooting sounds from his mouth, turn it into a deadly weapon, charging at me with fearless gusto. The way Ben can cut paper out and with tape and a marker, create an intricate 3-D pop up scenes of action, adventure and drama.

Boys are such, well...BOYS. And I have a new found marveling at them.
It wasn't always that way. I wanted just one girl eventually and I got three boys...and I admit I sometimes still wanted them to be girls. When they didn't sit and eat dinner quietly for 5 minutes...when they race through the house and use every possible toy as a weapon... when they make joke after joke about poop in front of the neighbors daughter...

I just wonder WHY? Why can't they behave? Be quiet, be calm for just 5 Minutes????
I got this past weekend in the PAX workshop that boys are miraculous little hunters. They are out to show their power, to test and trial and win at everything.
It's natural for them to confront, to get frustrated, to pout and express anger. It's natural for them to help and accomplish as well. They are wonderful at what they do.If I set them up to win, the struggle will cease.

That's not always easy though, to know ahead of time that the boys might leave the fridge slightly ajar and the baby will get in there and dump my sweet and sour sticky sauce all over three shelves of the refrigerator. Nobody wins there unless you count that he got to win by feeling the sensation of smearing the sauce. I guess that's a sensory win. Hang on, he did win, he conquered the lid on the sauce!

So I have a new challenge...setting them up to win. Thinking ahead, and sometimes I do. Today, while Bodee was taking Kendo class...karate with sticks....getting sweaty charging about a room with a big bamboo stick, yelling Japanese phrases at the top of his lungs, Ben was learning how to draw perspective with Mommy as his teacher, and Bronson was playing with preschool type toys in the kids room. They were all doing what they love, being challenged and winning...and I get to feel like the biggest winner of all, a Mom of three boys who hit the Jackpot!