And our son falls in love with “Angry Birds.” I’m talking
all out lust, will break down in tears when you cut me off at 15 minutes kind
of puppy, er, bird love.
“Are we sure that is an age-appropriate game for him?” I
asked the hubs, who happened to be just as engrossed as the wee one with the
Star Wars themed version of the game.
“No, it’s totally fine – look! No firearms, cursing, blood
or guts. Just glory,” he said.
With a harrumph I turned my back and began mopping the
counters, feeling a bit like a 50’s housewife in the moment I had lost the
argument. That and I was still questioning my judgment because after all, every
tee store in town offered an “Angry Birds” option in size 3T. Other kids talked
about it. And Lord knows nearly ever gentleman I pass holding their wife’s
purse at a retail store is playing while he patiently waits. But did it make it
right for my growing boy? And so my obsession with the obsession began.
Little Dude had been home for two days, his fever climbing
to 103, leaving him confined to our four walls and rooftop while he fought off
infection. Between bouts of Pedialyte, lengthy snoozes and “Tinkerbell,” he
found his affections for “Angry Birds” and hasn’t looked back. In fact, it was
becoming kind of a “thing” in that some days he’ll beg for it, negotiate with
me and for hours spend crashing into our furniture, bouncing off my big belly
or simulating a scene across our bed pillows. Though generally a laid back,
anything goes kind of Mom (though notably oversensitive to noise and extreme
activity), I began to wonder if the game had become a gateway drug to all other
things boy, and if it three was just too early for all the shenanigans.
In the week that followed, Ironman, Spiderman and Batman
made frequent appearances on our home screen, the cleaner 60s versions still
sparking the kind of passion, excitement and babbled question after question
I’d not yet seen before in our preschooler. This weekend it’s “Transformers,” and
I slightly cringe as later I watch him bash his Legos together again and again,
focused on good guys vs. bad guys, punching others in the chest and other sad
choices he used to be terrified of because it just the thought of it could mean
a time out.
I hear it’s all normal and find some solace in that every
time I approach the pre-school playground the boys can only be found wrestled
against one another on the green top, laughing as they twist each others limbs and
shout into one another’s ears. This does not excuse however, the words he
learned from friends this week (“kill” and “dead”) from becoming frequent
phrases in our household. That and the frequency of hitting instead of using
our words when emotions are high are enough to send me over the edge some
afternoons. And don’t get me started on the droning lull of “Mario Kart” as it
blares across our halls after a long day (bright side: I can spruce something
and get a load of laundry done in these moments!)
So maybe there is hope out there, “Angry Birds” or not. For
now I’ll celebrate his cuddles and quiet times in between, the way he still
adores princess cartoons and the cautious way he approaches new things and uses
kind manners in social situations. In fact, there’s not a thing I’d change
about him, this remarkable little boy who is changing so quickly in front of my
eyes. But I will admit: I don’t get it. And I’m not sure I feel great about it.
And I don’t know what it means for my job of building a strong character with a
nice blend of compassion, gentleness, kindness and well…maleness. But I’m doing
the best I can, which I hear counts for something.
And the hubs? He’s pretty smart too. So together we’ll do
our best, I’ll build my trust and continue to attempt to understand this male
brain that functions and is drawn to things so very differently than ours. And
I’ll love, support and teach along the way with open conversations, exposure
with boundaries and explore what he has ticking in his constantly revolutionizing
brain.
But I’m not buying an “Angry Birds” t-shirt, that’s for sure…
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