All the Things I Didn't Know About Boys
It's not just butts and farts
I’ve been around boys my whole life and yet I’m shocked everyday by the things boys do1. I grew one in my body and still have no idea how they operate.
My son is 11. Just started middle school. His friend group is comprised of many kids he met in kindergarten so I feel like I know these young gents pretty well too. They’re nice kids with nice families, but when they get together they are nothing short of feral Lord of the Flies re-enactors.
Fortunately my time spent studying the rituals of tweens coupled with an insatiable thirst for newsletter content means it’s time to share my findings so future boy2 moms will not be surprised to discover their basements have been operating as underground fight clubs.
Also look under the couch, Boy Moms. Ewwww, right?
They Are Constantly Hitting Each Other
Why do all the dumb stereotypes about girls hanging out together involve pillow fights? My girlfriends and I never hit each other with anything. Boys though? If it’s not nailed down, it’s getting flung at someone.
And they freakin’ love getting hit!
A basketball, a hose spigot, a houseplant, the dog’s water bowl (OF COURSE full of water), an opened bag of Takis Rolls Spicy Blue Heat Tortilla Chips, a FORK— all improvised weapons I’ve found scattered about the backyard.
They Are Soooooo Physical
When they’re not throwing things, they are throwing each other. Favorite games to play in his house include tag-team wrestling cage match where they take turns slamming each other into a pile of free weights in our basement.
Once I found a poor kid hogtied with resistance bands getting pelt with yoga balls!
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING???” I yelled. Wow. I was super excited to meet the Child Protective Service agent that was surely climbing my porch steps at that very moment. “UNTIE HIM IMMEDIATELY!!!”
“Awww,” the hogtied kid whined. “But it’s my turn!”
![Flight of the Conchords - "If You're Into It" [HQ] on Make a GIF](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fcef7be75-b8ac-4fcd-825b-f1ae629310bd_320x180.gif "Flight of the Conchords - \"If You're Into It\" [HQ] on Make a GIF")
They also love playing basketball— in the hallway. They spend hours slam dunking on a mini hoop hung over a closet door. Friends, I do not live in Highclere Castle. We have a “normal” size hallway and eight-foot ceilings. When this house was built in 1956, it was not designed for growing bodies to be flung against the walls like pinballs against thumper bumpers. At any given time outside of school hours there could be two to four tween boys running into each other so hard the pictures in other rooms bounce off their nails.
They Love Moms
Back off, Stiffler. Not like that.
I know my son loves me, but where he may not accept my loving embrace after a heartbreaking flag football loss, he will run straight into the arms of another mom3. Apparently she gives good hugs. Whatever.
But her kid won’t tell her anything and I got all the juice. Whenever he comes over we have hot goss sessions and that boy can dish! If his mom wants to know who he’s crushing on or what really went down in computer science, she’ll have to give me a hug4.
They Are Free With Bodily Functions. And Bodies.
Why yes, I have said, “Put your cheeks away while we’re eating please” to one of my son’s friends. No bigs. Cheeks happen. Just don’t want them to happen on my kitchen island.
I’m glad these kids are comfortable in my house and around me. Comfortable enough to:
take a massive dump in my bathroom
take a massive dump in my bathroom with the door open
talk to me while they are taking a massive dump in my bathroom with the door open
let me know they are about to take a massive dump in my bathroom
fart in front of me
fart and then try to BLAME IT ON ME5
Currently we are only in farts, pee, and poop territory but I FEAR what is right around the corner and how comfortable they are with me. Maybe it’s time to practice boundaries?
They Giggle
Yes, boys giggle. All the time. And it’s adorable.
They Smell
A pack of boys is called a “stink.”
It’s not surprising that tween boys smell. I was a smelly kitten at that age too. I’m writing it down so I don’t forget because every time I get in the car with more than one boy I pass out a little.
They Are Wildly Imaginative
Years ago I heard a librarian say boys tend to drop out of reading around the age of 12 and are less encouraged to do creative things. Even before having kids that comment made me sad. But after spending time with this stink of boys, I’d say creativity is alive and well.
When they are not clotheslining each other with a garden hose, they are engaged in beautifully bizarre games of make-believe. Last weekend I attended a funeral for a stick. Stickolas McBarky. There was a whole ceremony in our backyard including a eulogy and painted rock gravestone. Our beloved dog, Puppy didn’t get as proper a send-off.
Sometimes they play their own weird version of cops and robbers where one person is deemed the “prisoner” and the rest have to cart that person off to an horrifying, but clearly low-security prison where the prisoner inevitably escapes. And thus the catch and release continues until everyone has a turn being the prisoner.
I still don’t know what “Yam Time” is but it’s definitely popular. When someone screams, YAM TIME the rest scream LET’S GO! but they don’t actually go anywhere.
They Are Emotional
BREAKING NEWS! Boys have feelings!
When my son was seven his baseball team was eliminated from the playoffs and several of the kids were upset and in tears. My dad was shocked to see this blatant display of emotion! When he was a kid boys didn’t even HAVE tears! If they felt sad, little grains of sand fell out of their eyeballs shaking teeny tiny fits and yelling I’ll give you something to cry about as they carved rivers of scar tissue down their cheeks.
I’ll never forget the day we had to say goodbye to Puppy. My son left for school knowing it was quite possibly the last time he’d see his dog as we prepared him for what the vet was likely going to say. When I picked him up later, he was surround by his friends who all wanted to be there with him when he found out. The next day my son broke down in class and everyone— boys and girls— rallied around him and the teacher said the class spent the next forty minutes reminiscing about pets that have passed on and how to process grief.
And finally, after the fifth grade graduation ceremony we had a party at our house for the boys. I found them in the backyard surrounded by NERF guns, baseball mitts, and (my god) a pair of underwear, sitting in a circle talking about their favorite memories from elementary school. Of course fifteen minutes later they were back to playing prisoner and yelling YAM TIME, but it was sweet while it lasted.
They Anonymously Leave Their Underwear Behind
It’s like their calling card. Guess someone wanted to be invited back.
Never found out whose underwear that was, but if you know anyone looking for a pair, we buried them alongside Stickolas.
XO,
Shelly
ICYMI:
I was honored to participate in a Q&A with the lovely Kathryn Barbash from A Wonderful Mess about why humor is important in parenting.
My book HOW TO DUNGEON MASTER PARENTING was named an American Book Fest “Book of the Year” in the parenting and family category! Check out that bling!
Gift With Pre-Order Alert! For anyone who pre-ordered HOW TO DUNGEON MASTER PARENTING (and there’s still time if you haven’t) I’ve got a signed bookplate with your name on it! DM me your pre-order receipt and I’ll send a personalized bookplate and a cool “bookmark of protection” your way6!
I am VERY proud of that little graphic I made!
THANK YOU to everyone who has ordered a copy! Pre-orders are important to books and authors and available almost everywhere you like to buy books including:
Tertulia (25% off your pre-order with code QUEST)
No joke, as I wrote that sentence my son threw himself off a chair and onto the hardwood floor for fun. And now he’s complaining because his elbow hurts.
Of course girls do these things too. I know that! I was one! But I spend my time with boys so that is who my research is based on!
My mom ego wants you to know when we are at home he hugs me all the time.
They really are good hugs.
Once or twice they were absolutely right.
While supplies last!
My mother, on receiving another mother's compliments on my brother's nice manners, replied, with eyebrows shot high, “My son? John?”
I loved this. I especially enjoy the dichotomy of your “stink” of boys being so physical yet also being there for your son when your dog died. Back in the day a boy would’ve gotten his ever loving a** kicked for showing that kind of vulnerability.