9/9/2017

Teaching Our Daughters About Relationships Parenting

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I remember my mother explaining to me the sort of man I should marry. “Leslie,” she said when I was around 12 years old and only just starting to look at boys curiously, “The sort of man that is good for marriage is one that has plants in his apartment, can’t dance well, and wears tassel shoes.”

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Breaking this down, I know she had good intentions. A man who keeps plants alive is caring and doesn’t shy away from responsibility (this could extend to dog, cat or hamster for that matter). A man who can’t dance well, as she explained, means he’s not a “player.” He’s not out picking up chicks at the clubs and he doesn’t think he is smooth and full of himself.

And that last one? Well, it was the late 80’s so her logic at the time was that he cared enough to be somewhat pulled together but not overly flashy. 

My daughter is almost 13 and it occurred to me the other day that I, too, have imparted a sort of “The type of person you want to be with” wisdom recently. 

12/7/2008

My son will already make a wonderful husband. And he’s two. Parenting

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As a girl, with a mom of girls, I never truly “got” the Mama’s Boy thing. But it happened before he was born. I thought it was because he was my second born, the baby I could comprehend before I saw him, the kicking that I already understood deep inside my belly.

Now I know it was because of him. Who he is.

I have two children and I connected with them both. I understand my daughter from a “been there” perspective. I can read her and I remember what it was like being a four year old starting ballet. I understand when she just needs time without her younger sibling and I identify with some of her frustrations with school friends.

But my son? My son gets ME. My two year old will ask, “k? Mommy?” If I cough. He will come up and grab my leg on a difficult day and squeeze until my eyes fill with a different type of tear. He will pull his fingers through my hair absentmindedly as we watch Einsteins. He puts one hand on each of my cheeks to turn my head to him so he can kiss my lips goodnight.

His heart is as big as the sun and as warm. Most of the time, barring his two year old genetics, when I ask him to do something he will say, “OK, Mommy!” and he comes to get “screen on!” (Translation: Sunscreen) or “SHOES! ME DO IT!” or “HALP?”