There is more than one type of big machine
I never really noticed. To me, anything with wheels was a car, a truck, or maybe a bus. If it did not fit in that category, then I called it “construction equipment.” Now I know that a sloppy understanding of heavy machinery is simply unacceptable for a mother of boys. Together we have learned to distinguish the following: dump truck, back hoe, excavator, front-loader, skid steer, crawler, roller, cement mixer, plow telescopic handler, hay baler, crane, bobcat, roller, grain truck, semi truck, tractor, combine and so forth. I learned most of this from board books. My oldest son still needs to correct me at times.
Noise happens
My boys do not waste creative energies on crafts. Instead, they constantly re-create themselves. In one morning, I will find myself sharing a house with Peter Pan and Captain Hook; Superman and Batman; race car drivers, police, naughty guys; Rescue Heroes; doctors and fixer-men. Their games require movement and NOISE, and this is healthy. It is silence that I do not trust.
You think it is a threat: He might think it is a challenge
For example, “Get down from their right now! If you fell you would crack your head RIGHT OPEN!” A daughter, upon hearing these words, would get wide-eyed and humbly come down. One of my sons, however, would see those words as a challenge. He’d squint, trying to decide if I am bluffing, or if the resulting pain might be worth the excitement of seeing his own blood on the concrete.
Pain can be good.
“Hey mom, watch this!” I think I know what is going to happen. He is going to injure himself and cry about it. Then I’ll have to comfort him. Wrong, mama. The boys do not seem to crumble so easily. They do get hurt, but sometimes they laugh about it. They see it as a challenge to try harder next time. They do such ridiculous things that I find myself laughing about it, too. It is pretty funny to watch a four-year old learn that he cannot actually fly if he jumps high enough. He may have a bruise, but his effort still deserves my applause.
Mud is awesome
Mud makes messes. My girls and I understand this. If messes can be avoided, we ought to avoid them, right? Not necessarily. Mud makes messes, but it also brings peace and harmony into a world of boys. They make mud pies, and lose their shoes. They poke at gross things with sticks, and experiment on bugs. They feel the mud squishing in their toes. All this time they are forgetting to irritate each other. They are so happy with the mud they don’t even need to make themselves happier by smacking a brother on the head. Mud creates happiness. Mud is awesome.
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