Hardwired Peanut Butter Balls
Hello everyone!
I am an old, old lurker [to the A2Zhomeschool
Yahoo Group], but do read the posts each day and enjoy learning
so much from everyone. In vast appreciation to all on the list,
I offer a humorous glimpse into my life with my three sons ages
10, 9 and 8.
I am the mother of three young sons, and I take my parental
role very seriously. I have read many books about boys, how to
help them become promising young men, how not to damage them
unduly, how to prevent them from creating a homemade atomic weapon
and blowing up the neighborhood, etc...
I was pondering the idea of hardwiring today and considering
that while some mothers' experience sons like Thoreau who, while
tiny, lisped sweetly, "I am trying to look through the stars
to see if I can see God behind them."
I have sons who say things like yesterday's gem:
"Hey, if we melted down this silver baby Jesus nativity
scene, we could make a bunch of bullets."
Surely there must be a reason for my sons to emerge from the
womb screaming for blood and glory, and refusing all toys except
projectiles. Bereft of toy guns by me, their idealistic mother,
they deftly mastered the art of shaping their toast into the
shape of a realistic looking guns and pointing them at me and
saying "Bang!" by mere toddlerhood.
Television, I abhor it, yet they have had only a smattering
and none before age four. Can't blame the culture. Alas, they
were born this way. I have no genes.
Yesterday, I noticed my lovely and realistic 500,001 piece
Bethlehem village looked... odd. Looking closely, I discovered
someone had carefully placed 100 or so small, plastic soldiers
complete with full battle gear at strategic locations throughout
the village. Especially daunting was the prone soldier holding
Mary at bay with what appeared to be an AK-47.
Kind of authentic really.
Only last night did realize how very little control do I hold
over these testosterone laden young mammals. We were doing the
traditional kids get to make candy activity with peanut
butter balls and chocolate. The boys were busily crafting small
spheres of sweetened peanut butter and Christmas music was playing
softly in the background.
All was a Christmas postcard.
I heard some smothered giggles and emerged from the kitchen
just in time to see my middle son, Benjamin, in the act of chocolate-covering
the most perfectly rendered set of male genitalia I have ever
seen (created from sweetened peanut butter, that is). Replete
in its perfection... he had indeed created peanut butter balls.
Wish me lots of luck with these guys, please.
Merry Christmas Everyone!
Warmest wishes,
Christina Sanantonio
Thinking Out Loud
Blog about culture, children, families, nature, education and more.
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