This afternoon, I was taking a quick “quiet time” on the couch when Henry ambled over and crawled up next to me.
“Can you make sure nobody eats the last donut,” he sweetly asked. Henry is currently in the magical throes of an intense love affair with donuts, not just any donuts but “blazed donuts.” I love making him say it (sometimes as many as three and four times in a row — “what was that? What kind did you say?” “Blazed. I’d like a blazed donut.”).
So today I had to teach him one of the most important life lessons that a fella with four older brothers can learn, which is ALWAYS HIDE YOUR FOOD.
Just briefly, without revealing too many of my own hiding spots, I gave him a few hints about the best place to store the last blazed donut. My current favorite spot? The warming drawer.
Alas, Henry didn’t move fast enough (poor bloke wasted a few seconds on a sneeze) and the donut was no longer available to hide. I feel bad about that, really I do.
Later on, the boys were watching an Arnold Swarzzenagor (ha! butchered that so bad I’m keeping it) movie and I asked what one it was.
“This one’s called ‘Commando’,” said Charlie.
To which Henry replied, “hey, I thought that’s when you go without underwear.”
So really, he’s learning at an above-average rate.
I’ve gotten a few requests to write a bit more about life with middle school boys and teenagers and I will (eventually, but before I feel like I’m an expert because that might be oh, never). But today has been a good today but still not without it’s constant need for me to constantly stand my ground about little things like heaving sighs and that sort of thing. And really even just tone. As in, “what would be a better way for you to ask if you could please have another dozen eggs for breakfast?”
So Paul called this afternoon to tell me he has to take a big day trip tomorrow to the big immigration jail where he has a client. And I had this lightbulb moment that the middle school boys would be perfect travel mates for that day trip. Nothing like a little visit to the state pen to put things in perspective. Maybe putting your laundry away isn’t the worst personal affront in all the land afterall, eh?
(Does that make me mean? Oh good, I’m glad to know!)
(and no, they won’t be actually going inside a jail cell or anything. I probably should have explained that and now there’s a certain middle school boy in my home who is FREAKING OUT about how he isn’t going to jail, no way is he gonna go and risk getting shanked. So maybe our choice of Chuck Norris movies is a tad counter-productive.)
Blazed donut. Love it. Hope the trip to jail has the desired affects.
I have a great book recommendation for you: John Rosemond’s Teen Proofing. Awesome stuff about parenting the teenager. And lots about dealing with the ‘tude. I know from whence I speak – I’ve got two boy ones and a girl that has been through and survived to the other side of 20. And I’m still alive and so are they. Two more to go…..!
I lost it at the commando comment. Your posts always make me excited but nervous about my boys growing up.
As a Mom of all boys too (oldest is 9) I LOVE all your stories. Makes me feel I am not in the alone!! I always say “boys …..gotta love them”!!!
“Blazed doughnuts”: sounds like they have super powers!
I’m a hider also, my go to spots are the bottom shelf of the pantry, behind the flour. And also, sadly, behind the fruit in the fridge. Really I’m just hiding things from my husband as my boys still ask before eating anything. I’m guessing that will stop soon enough though!
Ah, middle school. My current (and last) middle school boy is playing Eeyore permanently, or at least until high school. Apparently a glum look and delayed response will fend off any possibility that anyone might ask him to do – anything. Because just being summoned is so obviously an imposition.
LOL! Fantastic post! I love this and love learning from your experiences. My boys are five and your tales of boyhood keep me from bemoaning the baby/toddler stage and, instead, looking forward to the future. Thank you.
Needing some help on standing firm on attitudes. Our oldest son is amazing. And 17. And full of attitude about everything. It is so frustrating, and I’m sad to admit I’m not finding much joy in this age. (Those adult moments or great conversations just don’t seem to happen for us.) Our youngest son is 4, much like your youngest son. He could potentially have a worse attitude at 17, so I need to start holding ground now. Thanks for all the great stories!
This is SO FUNNY!! We are great food hiders in my house as well. When my five boys were growing up, I always had to hide the chocolate chips or they would disappear before I got a chance to make cookies! My oldest son, an incurable chocoholic like his mom, could always sniff them out, no matter how strange the hiding place was. He was the chocolate chip ninja–all of his brothers were in awe.
And our youngest son was always trying to keep up with the “big guys,” so he learned at an “above-average rate,” too, like your Charlie.
I love reading about your life with young boys, because it brings back so many memories. My five boys are all grown up now (the youngest is in college)–and although it didn’t always feel like it when I was going through it, it all went by too fast!