Boys to Men — CMB Post

This was originally posted on the now defunct Chicago Moms Blog.

Not long ago, I wrote a kind of tongue-in-cheek post about how boys and girls are innately different and that there's not much we can do about it. While I stand by my premise (as far as it goes), I'm a little concerned that my meticulous research (conducted over 20 years as a stepmom and mom) could be used to justify more adult-oriented "boys will be boys" shenanigans.

Let me state for the record that just because I have documented that boys are likely to find great humor in bodily emissions and enjoy making car noises, it does not mean that they should grow up to be lying, cheating a$$h@!#s.

I don't know Tiger Woods, Jesse James, John Edwards or Charlie Sheen (read Darryle Pollack's hysterical post called "Bad Taste Meets the Final Four" for a great wrap up). Nor do I know Sandra Bullock, Elin Woods, Elizabeth Edwards, or Brooke Mueller, though as a woman I feel their pain. While millions of other women experience similar betrayals every year, I can't even imagine having to struggle through it as it is played out in the media.

As a mom, my question is this: how do I raise my boys to be good men — trustworthy, honest, caring partners worthy of the title mensch? What can I say or do to help them make good decisions, even when tempted? How can I instill in them a sense righteousness in honoring the women in their lives?

These are not idle questions. My sweet boys are turning into young men right before my eyes. My husband's first son is getting married this summer, our oldest is graduating from high school in June, and the "little" boys … well, as middle schoolers, they're not so little any more, and the boy-girl texting has already begun.

I know that my influence is diminishing by the day, and that the influence of their peers and the media is growing. I've certainly never pointed to athletes or celebrities or (heaven forbid) politicians as role models for my children. I also know there's only so much I can do or say.

So I'll just say this to my future daughters-in-law or significant others of my sons: I tried.

And boys, if you are reading this, please do not grow up to be lying, cheating a$$h@!#s. It would break your mama's heart.

This is an original Chicago Moms Blog post. When Susan isn't busy teaching her boys that mensches hold the door open for others and put their dirty clothes in the hamper, she can be found writing at Two Kinds of People, twittering @2KoP and freelancing at www.bearman.us.

It's Not Nurture, It's Nature — CMB Post

This was originally posted on the now defunct Chicago Moms Blog.

News flash — there are two kinds of people in the world: boys and girls. A long time ago, BC (before children), I used to believe that most of the differences we observed in female and male behavior was almost entirely the result of the way we raised them. Then I had twins — a boy and a girl — and I realized I was wrong. Boys and girls are different.

For example, my daughter has not once in her 18 years felt a need to make a vehicular noise. My three boys, on the other hand, practically came out of the womb saying "vroom, vroom". They know every kind of car/train/truck/plane/boat, what it's called, what it does and the particular noise it makes. In fact, my boys are virtuoso Foley Artists. Every action, game and story is accompanied by myriad sound effects. Let's face it, boys are noisy.

You may not believe me (unless you are a mother of twins), but I did not treat my boy/girl twins differently in their formative years. Frankly, I didn't have time. I changed one diaper, then I changed the other diaper, then … well, you get the idea. They had toys. They played with them. I did not tell them which ones to choose, and they often played together. My daughter would play with her doll, rock it, feed it, scold it (can't imagine where she picked that up), and put it to sleep. My son would sing "Ahh, ahh, ba-by," then toss the thing over his shoulder. My son would crawl around the floor for hours with his toy cars and trains; my daughter would occasionally join him by bending at the waist and using two hands to push a vehicle across the room. Then she was done.

It didn't take me long to realize that girls are not nearly as enamored of bodily fluids and functions as boys are. My daughter does not fall on the floor laughing when someone in the room passes gas. She has never once competed in the practically nightly belching contests that go on after dinner (that's all on their dad; I've tried to stop it).

Girls and boys have very different ideas about fashion. Since the age of two, I have not been able to tell my daughter what to wear. She has distinct ideas about her wardrobe and accessories and, thankfully, has grown into a young woman with taste and style (which she does not get from me). Fashion for her brothers means just one thing: comfort. "Mom, I don't like these socks. The line on the toe bugs me." "Mom, you know I don't like jeans. They're too tight and the zippers are a pain." That's right, my boys prefer elastic-waist pants because zippers present too big of an inconvenience.

Don't get me wrong. My boys are plenty vain. They love to gaze at themselves in the mirror. They are supremely confident about their perceived good looks. They pat their hair, check out their smiles and wink at themselves in the mirror. Maybe I should stop telling them how cute they are.

And in terms of personal bathroom habits, let's just say that girls have much better aim. I can't tell you how often my boys have tried to blame the mess around our toilets on their sister. How dumb do I look?

You may protest that this is all anecdotal evidence, that there are plenty of noisy, unkempt, fart-loving girls out there; and plenty of quiet, fashion-forward, fastidious boys, as well. All I can tell you is that as a stepmother of a boy and girl, and a mother of three boys and one girl, I have gathered extensive evidence about these basic differences. Call it stereotyping if you will. I call it fact.

Throughout my parenting years, I have been fascinated to be an observer of this vibrant laboratory of psycho/social experimentation that we call home. So why am I suddenly obsessing over these gender-based differences? Simple. My daughter is going off to college in the fall and leaving me alone with her father and three brothers. The balance of power in this household is about to tip decidedly away from my favor and I'm terrified slightly anxious about the transition.

Don't get me wrong. I love all my boys more than I can say, but I know things are going to change and I think I'm going to need some help. To that end, I am setting up a nonprofit charity to save my sanity. Donations of estrogen, chocolate and cash are welcome.

This is an original Chicago Moms Blog post. When Susan Bearman isn't busy charting the differences between male and female behavior, she writes a blog about all the other Two Kinds of People in the world, and freelances at www.bearman.us.

Dressing Up in a Casual World — CMB Post

This post originally appeared on the now defunct Chicago Moms Blog.

This post is not about my wardrobe. That subject is too depressing for words.

And it's not about what my teenage daughter will wear to the family b'nai mitzvah (plural of bar and bat mitzvah) this weekend. She likes to dress up and, though she's not a fluffy or pouffy girly girl, she does have and wear dresses and skirts. Sadly for her, as someone who would always welcome a new party dress, she has plenty of appropriate options for this weekend, so no shopping required.

No, this post is about boys and dress clothes and why the mere thought of packing for this weekend has worn me out. During the year, there are only a handful of occasions that require my boys to get dressed up. And by "dressed up" I mean wearing pants with zippers, as my boys are slaves to comfort and live for the elastic waistband.

Here is just a sampling of the complaints I get from all three of them about zipper pants:

• they're uncomfortable
• they're too tight
• they're inconvenient (I'm not making this up. Each of them has expressed to me that it is too much of a hassle to unzip when they need to use the john.)

So, because of Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, one band performance and the occasional bar or bat mitzvah, I need to invest in dress clothes for three boys who don't want to wear them. Nothing aggravates me more than clothes that don't get worn taking up room in the bottom of a drawer or in our tight closets — nothing, that is, except paying for said clothes.

You would think with three boys at home there would be plenty of hand-me-downs to handle most occasions. Not so. Despite the fact that all three are slim, they have different body types. Elastic waist bands hand down quite easily; fitted clothing does not.

Earlier this year, I bought my eldest boy a new suit. He is 5' 7.5" and weighs 114 pounds. For those of you who don't instantly translate this into haberdashery equivalents, let me do it for you: suits do not exist in his size. He is too tall for the boys department, where he would wear a size 20, but the pants would be too short and most size 20s come in "Husky". With a 27" waist, he is definitely not husky; nor is he able to shop in the men's department, where pants start at size 30", with a rare 28" available in an ugly color or print, and they would still be too big, even with a belt.

I know some of you who watch What Not to Wear are about to utter the word "tailor". Let me warn you, I know two-fingered Vito, and he probably knows where you live, so don't say it. I am not about to pay to have expensive men's pants whittled down to fit my son so he can wear them once and then roll them into a ball in his closet. Not going to happen.

My middle guy, who will have his own bar mitzvah in November and is due for a new suit, can still fit in the jacket of his big brother's castoff, but the pants are too short. I'm not ready to buy him his bar mitzvah suit yet, because all 12 year olds do is eat and grow, and I would be highly irritated if the suit did not fit in four months. The youngest, who could theoretically wear the pants of the aforementioned castoff, won't wear them because they sit at his natural waist and that "bothers" him — he prefers pants that sit at his hips. Ugh.

Then there is the problem of shoes: my oldest boy's feet stopped growing mid-winter at a size 10 1/2 — bigger than his father's feet, so he can't borrow from dad. The shoes we bought him last year still fit (yay!). As of 10:30 this morning, however, he could only locate one of them.

The dress shoes I have for the middle guy are, granted, one or two sizes too big, but if I tie them really tight, I think they'll stay on for the two hours of the ceremony on Saturday. The only other pair of dress shoes we own are a size 4, which may be a bit snug for the little boy, but I think they'll fit. They will fit. I will make them fit, because I just don't think $2 flip flops from Old Navy with skulls on them are appropriate footwear for a b'nai mitzvah, do you?

Now, all we have left to worry about are ties. It seems the cute ones they got at age four, the ones that velcro on at the back of the neck, now reach only to mid-belly, which is less than cute. My husband's closet-full of rarely-if-ever-worn ties are too long, so I'm not quite sure what to do about the whole tie thing.

Here's my plea: can't we as moms figure out a way to recycle boys dress pants, suits, shirts, ties, belts and shoes. It's not like they wear out. It's not like they ever really even change in style. There must be a way to make dress-up events less toxic for families with boys. There. I have just given you a million-dollar idea. When you figure it out, let me know. I'll only take the 10% to which I am entitled, and I'd be happy to take that in trade.

This is an original Chicago Moms Blog post. When Susan Bearman isn't stuffing her children into uncomfortable clothing and telling them that they may not eat, play or breathe until after the event is over, she can be found writing at Two Kinds of People and The Animal Store Blog.