Man Up
Thank all of you for your well wishes and words of support as we have come to grip with our Eldest son’s injury. I am glad to say those three baby stitches are healing nicely but I’m even more happy to announce Eldest mustered his courage and played through the pain in his first 7th grade football game last night. (If you didn’t read that first sentence through the lens of sarcasm, please read again.)
I think it was obvious from the Accident Incident that I’m still stumbling my way through the boy-to-man transition. The Boy Mommy in me wanted to keep my son home last night, put an ice pack on his darlin‘ little head, cover him up on the couch with some Doritos and Sponge Bob, and generally baby him until we were both ready to vomit.
The thing is, he’s not a baby anymore.
That breaks my heart in many ways but it also challenges me in others. His game has shifted from PeeWee to Jr. High. My game has to grow right along with him.
When he was younger, (and I’m still here with three of my children), it was important for him to be secure. To know that the people in his life from family members to teachers loved him, overlooked his faults, and generally accepted him unconditionally.
As he grows his security is still a primary concern but instead of it being a filter through which all things must flow, it should become a rear guard that undergirds all his experiences. At some point the flaws in character; the laziness, the absent-mindedness, the half-heartedness, and/or attitudes of disrespect, etc. need to be addressed – by family, teachers, and other significant figures in my kids’ lives. I am in a constant state of prayer that my children will find favor before God and man but I want it to be an earned favor, not a respect that is handed out freely without due diligence. I am grateful for every person who has demanded more of my son than he would have given were his buttons not pushed or his will not challenged.
Obviously our favor before God is based on salvation and not works, but it still comes at a personal price of self-sacrifice and humility. Favor with man is no different. When I choose to place my children in the care of an adult, whether it be in the classroom or on a playing field, I have to trust God will use that individual to draw the best from him. I must also encourage my son to rise to the occasion of whatever challenge is placed before him. Does he know I love him unconditionally and will catch him when he falls? Absolutely. Do I do him a disservice if I prevent that fall before it happens? YES. No boy ever grew into a man behind the shield of his mom’s apron.
So last night, instead of cartoons, we bandaged our boy’s head and watched him wince as his dad banged on his helmet to see if he could stand the pain (or to numb him – I was never clear on which). He didn’t really want to get hit, but he did. It wasn’t easy, but he soldiered through. He got on that field and played with heart and when it was over said, “It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would. I’m glad I played.”
He manned up.
And his mom is proud.
Such a good & much-needed word for this 1st-time mom of a boy. Seriously, you could've been eavesdropping on my "How??" prayers to God about my son's future. Thanks.
AWwWw. Good Job DanielSon. He’ll be catching flys with chopsticks before you know it.
Sister Christi,
You make me roll in the floor and laugh my butt off.
That’s all.
Love,
Your Big Little Sister
Great post, Lisa!
Glad he’s doing better! :)
It is so hard to let them go, isn’t it? And yet, it is both the best and worst part of motherhood when you see them grow up.
Hey Lisa,
Been there and it’s hard letting them “man up.” My baby will be 20 on Monday. Doesn’t even seem possible!
Thanks for sharing this today. We’re going through the same transition with our son, and I’m wanting to cave! Thanks for the reminder let him “man up”!
Oh the memories you’re bringing back! I have pictures of my 31 year old ‘baby’ in his first helmet at 3! Precious!
The times in throughout the High School years, big as he was (6’3″)… you let him get any kind of hurt and my stomach was in my throat and fingers clinging to the bleachers for dear life, while Dad went to check out injuries(if need be) ’cause “Mom’s do NOT go on the field”.
The after game: Win or lose being supportive, cleaning grass, mud and blood stains off the ole uniform all to get him ready to go back and do it again.
Tore me up at times, so hard to NOT over mother and keep him my baby…I LOVED every part of it!!
Sounds like you have a great handle on all of it Lisa,
Enjoy!!
Great post Lisa. Did we win???? :)
Preach it, sister. And the stitches and helmet banging are only 2 of the reasons I’m glad I have girls. I think I would bubble wrap my boys.
If only we could keep them at certain stages!!!
Is there anything more fun than watching one of your kids, girl or boy, getting down on a sports field??
Well, maybe watching in the rain.
I love this stage of life and will SORELY miss it when it’s gone.
I’m losing my first baby next year to college and I’m crying at every “last” time event we have this year. I can’t believe she’s grown!
Sports may hurt ’em sometimes, but it sure makes life fun! (I remind myself of this every time I have to have 3 different kids at 3 different sports!)
For the record, I’ve never heard the phrase “man up” before. I love that I heard it first from you. It will forever have a Southern twang in my brain because of that.
This is a great post, Lisa, and a great reminder to mothers of boys. We aren’t just raising our little snuggle puppies. We are raising warriors. It is their calling to “man up.”
Manhood or Motherhood.
Wimps need not apply.
He wears his injury well…brushes it off as if it were nothing (to the rest of us anyway!)
I’m glad he made it through the game!
Great post. You're going to be a great football mom!!!
My son is big into football and we have traveled this road often. If he has it his way, he'll be on that road through college also.
We have the best coach. Really loves his boys and their families. He hosted a Mom's Football 101 for all the players moms. It was so much fun. In the packet he gave us this poem I want to share with you.
A Football Mothers Prayer
Author Unknown
In the fall, it is time for the football season.
Mothers go to the game, but for one reason,
What is the reason? Let there be no denial,
It's to see if her son gets up from the pile!
Oh, she may have lots of pep, and do all the cheers,
and she hasn't missed a game in many a year.
But she doesn't do it just to keep in style,
It's to see if her son gets up from the pile.
She keeps tracks of the score and acts very alert,
Wondering how to get the bloodstains out of his shirt.
She always sits on her seat right on the aisle,
Just in case he doesn't get up from the pile!
Whe the whistle blows, she strains her eyes,
For the jersey number she's memorized.
She'll sit quite still, heart stopped all the while,
Til' she sees that number come up from the pile!
She'll stand and shout, "My son stopped the play!"
"Sit down, dear, he slipped," is all Dad can say.
She may not know a punt from the telephone dial,
But she knows when her son gets up from the pile!
Good ol' MOm, she's a dear, & your very best fan,
But you'll be her little boy even when you're a man,
She makes all your games, you think with a smile,
Just to see if "her baby" gets up from the pile!
Cheer your man cub on to victory! and may he always get up from the pile!!!!
Way to suck it up, as Hubby would say:) Manchild played a great game!!
Wonderful. Good for him. Good for you. It is hard though, isn’t it.