Skip to main content

The War On Boys

Well, I guess it all started about ten years ago, when the doctor told me I was going to be the Mommy to a bouncing baby boy. Excited, I dove in, scouring stores for adorable little boy clothes, hats, accessories. That's when it hit me. As I viewed the pitiful ten-foot-by-ten-foot assortment of boy clothes at Target, I compared it to the miles of girls' clothes just an aisle over. That's when the rage began; that's when I was first introduced to the injustice of it all, the fact that the world is at war with boys. And it's just become worse as the years have progressed.

Now, the proud mother of two boys, I can see this same attitude penetrating all parts of my boys' lives, and I'm fed up. From school, to clothes, to online smut, the world is attacking the spiritual, emotional and physical attributes that real men should have. Instead, they hope to turn every boy into pseudo-women, feminine in their makeup so as to be easier to manipulate, or targeting them for pornography and so they devalue women, further weakening the family unit.

So, for all the moms who want to raise real men in a feminine world, I suggest we rise up in solidarity, and agree to a pact: we will raise our sons to be just that - sons. Not metrosexual versions of the male species, afraid of getting dirty, hard labor or (gasp!) sweating. As for me, I'm making a mental promise to myself and my children that goes something like this: 


  • I will not hinder his need to collect slimy, smelly, dirty objects. 
  • I will refrain from shouting, "Be Careful!" every time he climbs something higher than an armchair. (Boys, by nature are just not careful. They are, instead, curious, hence the slimy, smelly, dirty objects.) 
  • I will allow him to pretend he is a dragon slayer, cop, Indian, warmonger, or any other unfeminine character his imagination dreams up, with the understanding that this will not turn him into a weapon-hoarding serial killer. 
  • I will encourage him to run until he is overly winded and smelling of sweat and wind, embracing the fact he has extra energy that is kept pent up during school hours. Boys need an outlet, and I will eagerly support his need to exercise it. 
  • I will actively search for stores who aren't afraid to stock a healthy portion of boys' clothes in all sizes, and pledge my undying loyalty to them. 
  • I won't, under any circumstances, insist that my son accompany me for a pedicure, manicure, hair appointment, clothes shopping for lingerie, or any other feminine pastime unless a suitable babysitter is unavailable. (Let's face it, most of this would be torture for any boy, and if you are shopping for lingerie with your son, you have other problems). 
  • I will encourage a healthy and active interest in activities that surround him with spiritually healthy male figures, realizing that the World is destroying our church by starting with the men. By clearing the path toward other Godly men outside his home, he is being fortified by other role models who can, thereby, mentor him toward adulthood. 
  • I will let him explore (mostly) without limits, nudging him toward adventure that will feed the need for incremental independence. 
  • I will get dirty, on occasion, with my boy, fishing, camping, hiking or exploring with him. (This does not mean moms have to collect slimy, smelly, dirty objects).
  • I will explain why a girl on the cover of a magazine is not a realistic view of women; I will, instead, point him toward the virtues of amazing real-life girls, whose wisdom and kindness outshine rubies (and centerfolds).
  • I will pray for his spiritual, emotional, physical and mental development every day, so that in all ways his choices will point to the Lord, and away from the darkness of the World. 
  • I will cherish every time he holds my hand, snuggles next to me under a warm blanket, tells me he loves me or hugs me in a tight embrace, for these days are limited. 
"Boys will be boys" is a phrase as old as dust, yet, it is slowly losing its meaning in our modern culture. I, for one, want my boys to grow into men, not the World's version of what a man should be. 

So, bring on the callouses! I want my guys to be strong, courageous, compassionate, inspiring, hard-working men of integrity. And I'm not ashamed to admit it. 

Comments

  1. HEAR HEAR!

    I'm so glad to hear you say this. I've often felt the same way when shopping for my two boys. There is a plethora of options for girls but not for boys!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I think it's a quiet struggle that most people just don't talk about. If I were a clothes designer, I'd fix this problem but quick! Thanks for reading my blog! Share with your friends!

      Delete
  2. Replies
    1. There's nothing like a little boy's love! Cherish them! Thanks for reading my blog:)

      Delete
  3. Great article! I've always embraced the fact that my guys can put on jeans and a third and look dashing! Boys to Men is not a band; it's real life in search for Godly men. Us gals need them desperately. Hugs, Danna

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Danna! It's true, there's less on the surface to mess with, but inside, boys are just as complex as girls.I just think the World tends to ignore that fact. Thanks for reading my blog! You're a great friend, and woman of valor. Blessings!

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Season’s Greetings

I’ve been thinking a lot about seasons lately. You see, I’m a planner. I find great comfort in knowing as best as I can what’s next, how to accomplish it, what steps to take. I do this with everything. I mean ... everything. From my meals to my workouts to my kids’ schedules. Especially my kids schedules. So, when this COVID thing hit, it didn’t just send me for a loop, it sent me into a vortex. Like the eye of a tornado kind of vortex. I love my kids, but I’m no school teacher. In fact, I spend lots of money at the end of each school year on bribes - I mean gifts - to show my deep appreciation for these professionals. So, when I first learned spring break was being extended, I panicked a little. Then two weeks later, school was delayed further until ultimately distance learning became our new normal. Except it wasn’t normal. Far from it. My children, one who suffers from a learning disability, struggled to the finish line. My husband and I jockeyed for space in our small home to fin

Open Palms: Learning to Hold On Loosely

I can't even tell you how long it's been since I've written in my blog. Months? Years? Probably years. But daily I have messages fly in and through my mind that I think, "I've got to share this with people!" but I never do because I'm usually driving a kid or chasing a kid or yelling at a kid or nagging a kid to pick up something off the floor. You get the picture.  Yet, I'm compelled to get off my rump and finally put this down because, Lord help me, I've been through a lot lately. Not kidding. Full disclosure, we haven't been through as much as some, and I'm not claiming to understand other people's real pain or suffering ... like cancer or the loss of a child. So, please understand I'm living in reality here when I tell you these recent life challenges are probably child's play compared to some people's daily mountains. But for those struggling with climbing over the steep hill called trust in times of change, thi

Unhappy Endings - Facing Our Own Season Finale

I've never been good at endings. It's something most of my closest friends know about me. And it goes way back. I remember in elementary school, when I finished my last day of sixth grade at the school I'd attended my whole life. Depression hit me like a sack of sadness, and I couldn't move on from the fact that I'd never darken those doors again. Instead, childhood was being shed like a too-tight skin to make way for pre-teendome. And I was not a fan. To this day, I won't watch the series finale when I stream my favorite shows because it's too sad. In my twisted little world, as long as I don't watch Monica, Chandler, Pheobe, Ross, Joey and Rachel walk down that hallway one last time, then they continue on as they always have ... sipping coffee at Central Perk and living their quirky, mid-90s lives. There's comfort in that for me. Even if I know it isn't true. Today, I'm facing one of those endings that I know will hurt like my first