Sunday, June 5, 2011

Frogs in his pockets and love in his heart.....

I never had the slightest inkling what I was in for when it came to raising a son.  There isn't a day that goes by that I don't find myself with my head thrown back in laughter.  Sometimes the laughter was to keep from crumbling in a defeated pile on the floor and crying.

There are many examples, but one special moment comes to mind.  It frames the opposing images of rearing a son just perfectly.  There is nothing more that our son loves to do than to "fix it".  Last summer in an attempt to thwart the boredom that accompanies a summer without his new found school chums, I gave my soon to be kindergartner a few of Daddy's harmless tools and tool belt to wear and played along at his request.  He politely asked me in his best handyman tone if there were any "fixins that needed doing".  I explained that I had noticed a leak in the kitchen sink that he could possibly help me with.  Off he went to conquer the world of "fixins".  After a short time, he returned to let me know that it had been handled and I owed him ten fifty hundred dollars for the job. cute I thought and tousled his hair.  That evening I began to wash dishes and felt warm water pour in a steady stream onto my feet.  With reluctance I peered into cabinet beneath the sink and there lay every piece of pipe neatly placed side by side at the base of the cabinet.  Oh, my handy man had fixed it alright!  I then spent the next two hours rebuilding our sink.

I wanted nothing more than to speak to Dr. Dobson himself at that very moment and plead with him to refresh my memory on his eloquently stated parenting advice found in his book, Parenting Isn't for Cowards.  Boy, could he have not picked a better title for that book or what.  Boys are a unique gift that should come with their own separate set of instructions.

There isn't anyone that can express that better than Dr. Dobson himself.  Below you will find a link to an excerpt from his book, Bringing Up Boys.  I highly recommend that if you find yourself hearing the words, "Congratulations!  It's a boy." You swaddle that baby in a hospital blanket and crack open that book.  You're going to need it.

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