Please, don't try to tell me that boys are just socially conditioned to behave in a different manner than girls. I declare loudly that little boys are intrinsically different than little girls and I celebrate that difference with JOY.
Since I grew up with only one sister, I was stunned by some of the ways that my boys played . It was like I was an observer watching an alien society.
As toddlers, my three sons would stare at wheels turning as they ran toy cars back and forth again and again, totally engaged. in this repetitious action.
It was an inborn obsession that developed into a fascination with any machine that had wheels. Tricycles, bicycles, waggons, lawn tractors, cars and trucks were not only driven but also examined in minute detail. Trikes and bikes were turned upside down to examine wheels, fill tires and fiddle with the gears. Even more hours went by hours went by with my sons' heads stuck under the hood of a car.
My boys also seemed born with the ability to drive anything with an engine. While the girls struggled to learn how to drive cars (just ask their frustrated father), the boys learnt effortlessly.
One day Matthew was about four or five and he asked for his sister's water proof doll. I was so pleased. I thought,
"Yes! I have raised a son with nurturing instincts!"
When I came back into the bathroom a few minutes later, the head was off the doll and he was holding the rubber tubing that was connected from the doll's mouth to its bottom. Matthew was making loud machine noises as he lowered the head into the water , filled it, slowly lifted it and then swung the head around , imitating a crane pouring water into the bucket.
I was astonished and then I started to laugh at my son, my efforts to change him and this whole nature versus nurture controversy.
Of course, I tried to curb aggressive instincts in my sons and I definitely didn't want my first born to have a toy gun.
What did this little boy do?
He found sticks with stumps acting as the trigger and later made guns out of Lego. I just threw my hands up in defeat after that.
Now all three of my farm raised sons are avid hunters, who only shoot as much as their families can eat. (I call wild meat chemical free, happy meat because the animals 'existance is free and they do not have to go through the torture of the slaughterhouse.)
I am proud to report that all three of my sons are young men who have hearts for people particularly babies. In fact they are just as crazy about babies as my six daughters but they relate to infants in their own "masculine" way. David, the first father of the group, tosses his baby up in the air. As Eva shrieks with delight, her (socially conditioned?) mum wrings her hands anxiously as she watches nearby.
This iscene is natural, normal in all cultures, throughout history and I celebrate this symbol of the glorious diffences between men and women, husbands and wives, mothers and fathers.
VIVA LA DIFFERENCE.
Since I grew up with only one sister, I was stunned by some of the ways that my boys played . It was like I was an observer watching an alien society.
As toddlers, my three sons would stare at wheels turning as they ran toy cars back and forth again and again, totally engaged. in this repetitious action. It was an inborn obsession that developed into a fascination with any machine that had wheels. Tricycles, bicycles, waggons, lawn tractors, cars and trucks were not only driven but also examined in minute detail. Trikes and bikes were turned upside down to examine wheels, fill tires and fiddle with the gears. Even more hours went by hours went by with my sons' heads stuck under the hood of a car.
My boys also seemed born with the ability to drive anything with an engine. While the girls struggled to learn how to drive cars (just ask their frustrated father), the boys learnt effortlessly.
"Yes! I have raised a son with nurturing instincts!"
When I came back into the bathroom a few minutes later, the head was off the doll and he was holding the rubber tubing that was connected from the doll's mouth to its bottom. Matthew was making loud machine noises as he lowered the head into the water , filled it, slowly lifted it and then swung the head around , imitating a crane pouring water into the bucket.
I was astonished and then I started to laugh at my son, my efforts to change him and this whole nature versus nurture controversy.
Of course, I tried to curb aggressive instincts in my sons and I definitely didn't want my first born to have a toy gun.
What did this little boy do?
He found sticks with stumps acting as the trigger and later made guns out of Lego. I just threw my hands up in defeat after that.
Now all three of my farm raised sons are avid hunters, who only shoot as much as their families can eat. (I call wild meat chemical free, happy meat because the animals 'existance is free and they do not have to go through the torture of the slaughterhouse.)
I am proud to report that all three of my sons are young men who have hearts for people particularly babies. In fact they are just as crazy about babies as my six daughters but they relate to infants in their own "masculine" way. David, the first father of the group, tosses his baby up in the air. As Eva shrieks with delight, her (socially conditioned?) mum wrings her hands anxiously as she watches nearby.
This iscene is natural, normal in all cultures, throughout history and I celebrate this symbol of the glorious diffences between men and women, husbands and wives, mothers and fathers.
VIVA LA DIFFERENCE.
Amen. That is all.
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