I'm Raising A Man

I’m Raising a Man!

I’ve been feeling a little vulnerable lately. Money is tight, the job search isn’t going well and I’m feeling a little bit guilty about having to put Big C in day care 2 days a week when I do start working. I guess the fact that we’re being audited by the IRS and my 14 year old cat was just diagnosed diabetic doesn’t help matters much either. Despite all this, I’m trying to stay positive, I love what I’m doing at my internship and, for now at least, Big C and I are having a blast this summer. And that is where my story begins…

I took Big C to Burger King for lunch today. I don’t necessarily like fast food but I do like the fact that he can play, contained, in the play area. I told him he had to eat at least 2 of his chicken nuggets and most of his French fries to get the toy, he complied. “Okay,” I thought,” I’m on a roll.” When he started to get a little mouthy I told him that he had to sit politely until I finished my cheese burger before he could go in the play area. After 10 or so minutes of him sprinting towards the play area and climbing on the table, I grabbed him, looked him in the eye and said, “You behave or we’re leaving.” He promptly started screaming at the top of his lungs. I packed up what was left of my lunch, grabbed his hand and headed for the door to lamentations of, “I’m sorry, Mama.” I was clearly frustrated and embarrassed at how my child was behaving when an older woman, maybe in her 50s called out, “Young lady! Young lady with the little boy!” It could only have been me she was calling to, “You’re doing the right thing,” she said, “You’re raising a man, not a brat,” and several people in the restaurant nodded in agreement. I replied, “Thank you,” and scurried Big C out the door.

By the time we got home, Big C had calmed down and so had I. We played in the back yard for about 90 minutes when Big C stated he was ready for his nap. After several rounds of the Cops theme song to lull him to sleep, he was out and I started thinking…

I wonder if the woman in Burger King even realizes what a kindness she did by calling out to me. I am a mom, further; I am the mother of a boy. It is my responsibility to make sure I am raising a moral, intelligent and compassionate man. I work, part time, with children in an upper middleclass neighborhood and some of the things these kids are allowed to get away with would curl your hair. My son will not be among the “entitled” generation. He is a spoiled boy but he is not rotten.  It is my job to make sure my son grows up to be a contributor to society. It is my job to make sure my son grows up to be a success in whatever endeavor he chooses. It is my job to make sure my son grows up to be respectful, honest and compassionate. And it is my calling in life to make sure he becomes a man. Not just a man anatomically speaking but a man figuratively speaking as well. Chivalry is not sexist, it is polite and my son will be polite. Being strong and successful is not elitist, it is ambitious and my son will be ambitious.

To me, my son embodies everything that is right and everything that will be right again with this country. Mothers, Fathers, Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles of boys, make sure you are raising a man. Real, strong, chivalrous and bold men seem to be in short supply these days. I’m lucky enough to have married one and honored to be raising another.