Darth Maul Underwear

I've mentioned previously how Boyo decided to potty train himself.


The thing is though, he refuses to wear underwear. At home, I don't mind if he's running around with his business hanging out... but I have a problem with it when we go out in public. Around other people. Who seem horrified.



But he really, really, REALLY hates underwear. And over the past two weeks, he and I have had some EPIC battles over whether or not he had to wear pants in public. I mostly won.


Then something clicked... see, Boyo has four Star Wars shirts that he must wear every day. So I figured, why not underwear? We went to Target to take a look and see what they had.


Not only did they have Star Wars underwear, they had Darth Maul underwear. You know, this guy?

For whatever reason, my son loves this guy. He tells me, "Dawth Maul my FAVOWITE! I be Darth Maul!" He wants a Darth Maul cape and light saber. He chooses to be Darth Maul when he plays Star Wars with his Daddy and his sister. And he's never even seen Episode I.

So the Darth Maul underwear was a big hit. And he hasn't had any accidents since he put them on. Sure, I have to wash them every night, but fine. That is less work than having to clean up accidents.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, Thank you, Ray Park, for getting my son to wear underwear.

Wordless Wednesday: Debuting Halloween 2012

Huh. Potty training. Who knew?

~
Boyo decided to potty train himself.

He prefers to be naked ("I NO WEAR PANTS" is his favorite thing to shout out - followed closely by "I haf knife") and it's easier to let him be naked than to fight him about it.

I was meaning to potty train him. It was on the calendar for April. Or June. Or August. Or before he started kindergarten.

It's just that I'm tired. And diapers are so much easier. And I envisioned an epic battle like with Girlie. And he's a boy -- I don't know how to teach him about all that business. And, most importantly, I'm TIRED.

So last Friday he was playing in the yard in a tshirt (and nothing else) when he started to pee. He gasped, grabbed his penis, screwed his face up tight, and ran to the bathroom, yelling, "Come on, Momma, come on! It's waining out my penis! The peepee is coming, the peepee is coming!"

I chased my little Paul Revere to the bathroom and sat him on the little potty that his sister uses. That was a problem. He's 10 lbs heavier than she is and didn't fit. When he started to pee again, he sprayed the bathroom wall.

Before I could panic, he stopped himself again. "I stand UP!" he demanded. "Like Daddy!"

So I got the stool, raised the toilet seat and taught him to grab the top of the tank and lean in -- voila! Instant success!

I made a fool of myself -- jumping up and down, clapping, praising him. He got two stickers and I told him when he had 10 we would go pick out a toy at the Disney Store ($5 max). However, I didn't realize that he had such control of his bladder, because an hour later, when he had to go again, he stopped and started 4 times in order to get the 10 stickers.

All weekend long, he used the toilet -- when he was naked. When he was wearing clothes, he had an accident. And let's not talk about poop yet. We still have some work to do. Or I can let him be naked forever.

Here's the thing though -- remember how I said I don't know about all that business? I'm a girl -- one of FOUR girls. We didn't have any boys around growing up. So when Boyo finished peeing, I was at a loss -- do I have him wipe? Do I have him dab it dry? Or do I have him shake it off? I went with shake it off.

When my husband came home, Boyo proudly showed off his new skill while my husband stared at him, agape. (Seriously. Potty training him over the weekend was not on our radar AT ALL).

Boyo finished, flushed, and then jumped up and down, arms and legs flying, penis bouncing up and down. "Is he doing the happy dance?" my husband asked me.

"No, he's shaking it dry," I replied.

"What?" my husband asked.

"Well, how else is he supposed to get it all out?" I defended.

My husband stared at me in disbelief for a minute and then said, with all the love in his heart, "You're an idiot."

How Do You Raise A Boy?

I found the quote below on Facebook the other day and it spoke to me not because of how to raise my daughter, but how to raise my son:

"Today I will build my daughter up. Today I will focus on her intelligence, creativity, sense of adventure, wild heart, and imagination. Today I will let my daughter get dirty, or make a mistake. Today I will reject the notion that she is just a pretty face, a delicate creature who needs pampering and consumerism to feel fulfilled. Today, I will simply let my daughter be a kid.
Today I will find ...joy in my son. Today I will cherish his dreaming mind, love of exploring, tender heart, and sparkle in his eye. Today I will let my son climb higher than my mother's heart is comfortable with, and give him the room to learn on his own. Today I will reject the notion that he is a tough guy who doesn't need art and love and compassion in order to be a mini man. Today, I will simply let my son be a kid." ~Pigtail Pals - Redefine Girly

I've mentioned in this blog and to anyone who will listen -- how I want to raise Girlie to be a kickass woman: one who can shatter the glass ceiling if she wants to, who will wear cleats and heels, one who is independent and possesses a mental and physical strength to get her through life. I don't want her to give up her power to a man (or woman) -- I want her to defy stereotypes.

And I've been so focused on her that I've neglected my son.

How do I raise him to be a kickass man: one who possess a mental and physical strength to get him through life, who can be ambitious and sensitive, who will treat women as equal but still hold the door open for them, who won't let a girl win just because she's a girl, but will still stand up for women's independence? How do I teach him to figure out who he is and not give his power away to a woman (or man)? How do I teach him to be strong and sensitive without being a wuss, to be independent and not a mama's boy but still call his mother on occasion? How do I teach him to defy stereotypes?

I don't have a clue.

There are so many books and articles out there about raising strong, independent girls and very few on how to raise strong, independent men. A quick google search on "How to Raise A Strong Man" gave me one good article -- this one -- and then an article titled "Want to Raise A Good Son? Get him a Good Man."

The point of the article is that a boy needs a strong father figure. I get that. And Boyo has one.

But it doesn't answer my fundamental question: what is MY ROLE in raising my son to be a good man? What do I talk to him about? How do I teach him to communicate and be empathetic and not objectify women? It can't all be on my husband, can it?

I know what to do with my daughter -- or at least, I have a plan. I'm clueless when it comes to my son; I don't even know where to start. And I'm worried that I've wasted three years where I could have been helping him.

“We've begun to raise daughters more like sons... but few have the courage to raise our sons more like our daughters.” ― Gloria Steinem

Baptism

Well, we finally did it.

After almost 8 months of life, three months of planning, 6 months of my Great Aunt threatening baby limbo if we don't take care of this RIGHT NOW (do they still have baby limbo?), and a stressful weekend setting up, BabyGirlie got dunked.

That is, she was baptized into the Catholic faith.

It was a moving, crowded, loud experience that she screamed through -- instead of pouring water over her head, her Daddy and I opted for full immersion. That means she is stripped naked, presented to the crowd, and then dunked three times (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, ya'll) in what appeared to be a very nice, tiled bathtub.

It was awesome.

But my favorite part was after his sister was baptized, Boyo looked at me with wide eyes and said, "I no want that."

Top Ten Things You Don't Want to Hear When Recording a Lecture for Your Students

10. Mommy, Brother did it!

9. I WANNA WATCH MICKEY! I WANNA WATCH MICKEY! I WANNA WATCH MICKEY RIGHT NOW! I WANNA WATCH MICKEY! I WANNA WATCH MICKEY! I WANNA WATCH MICKEY! I WANNA WATCH MICKEY RIGHT NOW! I WANNA WATCH MICKEY!

8. Mommy, it's okay. It was an accident!

7. (Ear piercing shriek, followed by:) I didn't do it!

6. (Baby sobbing, followed by:) I didn't step on her!

5. Mommy, whatcha doing? Why Mommy, whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy?

4. Mommy, I'm writing my name with glue!

3. (tied with #2) Mommy, I pooped!

2. (tied with #3) Mommy, I need you to wipe my butt!

1. Mommy, the TV's broken!!

Aren't I blessed to get to work from home?