To Manhood and Beyond

How a woman just can’t raise a man… on her own.

I feel like I just turned away for a minute, distracted with something like life and other worthy pursuits, and when I turned back, I suddenly had a teenage boy on my hands. And he’s not even quite a teen yet! His feet stink. His pits stink. And his room has that teenage boy funk, the one that’s disgustingly deliciously familiar, reminding me of my three brothers, all their mates and the chaotic male madness and bravado I grew up with.

A cocky attitude is starting to set in. I can still take him in a bed wrestle but it won’t be long before he is physically bigger and stronger than me. The problem is also that he looks older than his age- with his dad’s Dutch heritage he’s pretty tall and with my Danish DNA he gets his Viking musculature. He doesn’t realise his strength and there are times when he’s uncoordinated and more than a touch unconsciously heavy-handed. A friend of mine has always described him as a big puppy. All the words I can say about this have little effect. He’s bound for high school next year. I’m concerned he will inadvertently get into issues with other bigger boys. I’ve realised it’s time for him to be put in his place by bigger and hairier monkeys than me.

In the last six months, we’ve had a seismic shift in our family with his dad getting his own place and kidcare being for the first time divided 50/50. This has brought a lot of changes. Some totally welcome and others a bit more difficult to navigate. One great thing is that his dad’s place is close enough that our kids are able to ride to and from school when they’re with him. But with that came responsibility. We put it quite sternly on him that as the older one, he had to look after his younger sister. Of course, they both have to look out for each other (which has always been the case) but it was especially on him when they had to learn to navigate the busy roads between school and their papa’s place. The offset of this was him finally getting a mobile phone which has brought a whole lot of other stuff (more on that later…)

When I was younger, though I never considered it ideal, the prospect of raising children without a father was not totally daunting because of my three brothers. I knew any kids of mine would always have strong male role models in their life. But to be honest, 12 years into this parenting lark, that’s not really happened as much as I would’ve liked. I’ve been suggesting quite regularly that it would be great for my brothers to spend solo time with their nephew but with the big monkey necessitation factor- it’s become more pressing.

So it got to a point finally where I had to up the ante and let them know that the only thing I wanted for my birthday was for them to hang out with their nephew. I told them — I’m a woman — I can only do so much in guiding him to be a man.

The time of mother is receding. This is, of course, a natural occurrence in human development. For every mother through millennia–-or at least has for those wanting their sons to venture out from under their skirts and into the world– it requires a fairly significant act of surrender. He’s starting to pull away from me, squirming away from my hugs and kisses, defying me and rolling his eyes when I speak. It’s a reminder of the unhaltable passage of time. I remember that little koala boy who wouldn’t let go of me, swallow hard and try to smile. I can either kick and scream or try to have grace. My parenting journey with him is far from over, and he’ll need me in a whole host of different ways as he navigates his teen years but…

He’s stepping more towards his dad. As much as the stepping away from me pains me, I am thankful he has a good father. We couldn’t make it work living in the same house, but I recognise what I and my kids still have – an active dad. And truth be told, I’ve worked hard to keep it so. And my kids also have another strong male role model in my partner.

There’s a physicality that men deliver to boys — and it’s mainly through doing, not talking.

So my youngest and oldest brother invited their nephew for a night of camping. I had a bit of trepidation of how it would go, my boy is often times a bit of an oddball. I was just starting to wonder when I received a texted photo of the three of them, arms around each other, big grins in the firelight. I must admit, I did tear up.

Arriving there the following day to pick him up I was greeted by a suddenly different, gungho young man who was keen to show me his newfound skills in wood chopping and slingshot aim. It reminded of the scene from the iconic Australian film, “Priscilla: Queen of the Dessert” when the main character, a drag queen, is trying to be all “manly” for the son he’d been so recently acquainted with. Such a quintessential Aussie male stereotype he tries to cut too- donning Steve Irwin-esque khakis, standing by the creek, self-consciously putting a foot up on a log as he performs what is likely the most awkward spit in the history of film.

Masculinity is an evolving thing. The notion of it being “toxic” is more than concerning and frankly, largely insulting. My brothers’ have their brand, rugged, rough underscored by male camaraderie, but there are lots of different types of men and masculinity. There’s a tonne of overlap, but men and women are different. Always have been, and always will. That’s not good or bad — it is what it is!

So many women are doing it tough raising kids, on their own. And usually, doing a friggin’ fantastic job of it as best they can! But men should be the main ones leading boys into manhood. By that I mean, actual, real-life men. Otherwise, who is it? Superheroes? YouTubers? Kanye West? Whether they’re fathers or other guys in their lives, adopted uncles or the bloke next door; all boys need actual, real-life adult men in the mix. Men need to step up and women need to step to one side. Female caregivers and mothers are awesome and have an enduringly massive role to play in raising men, but they can’t and shouldn’t do it alone.

In mayhem, marvel and mirth — MamaMindFULL ❤

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Esta soy yo contra mi. “Reencuentro” is published by Doribel Medina in Poesía en español.