As they've grown I've learned to roll with the punches. To try to only scold when real scolding is needed. To sit and watch their imaginations create some of the best shows in the world. To pretend I'm giving them freedom by staying in the background and letting them do their thing when really I'm there front and center watching in case "their thing" goes wrong.
And I almost always let them do their thing - climbing, jumping, running, throwing, wrestling, catching, creating, exploring. My goal is to teach them how to do things in the safest way possible and to let them fall occasionally so they learn from their mistakes. No secrets in this house.
You see, I'd rather them tell me they are sledding off the roof in the middle of winter or jumping out of the tree onto the trampoline then it be a big secret and have someone get hurt but not be truthful about how it happened.
I feel like they are going to do some things in life that aren't safe or smart but I'd rather know the plan and be able to prepare them for what could go wrong before they make the choice to do it. That way they will learn to make smart choices and know outcomes aren't always what they'd think or hope.
I like to think of it as supervised rough-housing. Letting boys be boys by observing and teaching instead of forcing them to be something they aren't, instead of telling them how they are supposed to be.
They need to be able to express themselves and be themselves. They learn best through doing, through playing. Boys need to move and be hands-on. It doesn't do them any good to have them sit around, playing quietly - it's like asking a little boy to misbehave. Keep them busy and all will be good.
I've learned that the muddy footprints on the floor and the handprints on my windows will actually disappear before I'm ready for them to be gone, so for now I'm going to enjoy my little men and their friends and hope my home continues to be a place all of them want to come to.
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