Here’s another one: I don’t have this book yet. Edit: Actually, I do have this book sitting on my shelf.

“In all our years as therapists, we have never met a boy who didn’t crave his parents’ love and others’ acceptance and who didn’t feel crippled by their absence or redeemed by their abundance. Strong and healthy boys are made strong by acceptance and affirmation of their humanity. We all have a chance to do that every day, every time we are in the presence of a boy and we have a chance to say to him, ‘I recognize you. You are a boy — full of life, full of dreams, full of feeling.'”

—Michael Thompson, Ph.D. and Dan Kindlon, Ph.D.
Co-authors, Raising Cain: Protecting the Emotional Life of Boys

http://www.pbs.org/parents/raisingboys/helpingboys.html
(a very long, quite good article)

Other Books to Investigate
Raising Boys: Why Boys Are Different-And How to Help Them Become Happy and Well-Balanced Men
by Steve Biddulph

Oops—This next author is a fundamentalist Christian. So maybe I’ll skip these:
Bringing Up Boys: Practical Advice and Encouragement for Those Shaping the Next Generation of Men
by James C. Dobson

The Wonderful World of Boys by James C. Dobson, John Russell

“We see parenting as a sacred responsibility. Parents are nothing less than protectors, nourishers, comforters, teachers, guides, companions, models, and sources of unconditional love and acceptance. If we are able to keep this sense of parenting as a sacred responsibility in mind, and we bring a degree of mindfulness to the process as it unfolds moment to moment, our choices as parents are much more likely to come out of an awareness of what this moment, this child—at this stage of his life—is asking from us right now, through his very being and his behavior. In rising to this challenge, we may not only come to do what is best for our children; we may also uncover and come to know, perhaps for the first time, what is deepest and best in ourselves.

“Mindful parenting calls us to acknowledge and name the challenges we face daily in trying to parent with awareness. For awareness has to be inclusive. It has to include recognizing our own frustrations, insecurities, and shortcomings, our limits and limitations, even our darkest and most destructive feelings, and the ways we may feel overwhelmed or pulled apart. It challenges us to ‘work with’ these very energies consciously and systematically.”

—Myla and Jon Kabat-Zinn, Everyday Blessings: The Inner Work of Mindful Parenting

… And this is why it’s so hard.

My son’s musical tastes are rather eclectic. When he was two, his favorite song in the world was “Hey Ya” by OutKast. He’s also very fond of lots of happy hardcore, Raffi, Aqua’s “Barbie Girl” and “Tarzan and Jane,” “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King” from The Lion King, and The White Stripes’ “Little Ghost:”

“Little Ghost” Lyrics
Little ghost, little ghost
One I’m scared of the most
Can you scare me up a little bit of love?
I’m the only one that sees you,
And I can’t do much to please you
And it’s not yet time to meet the lord above

The first woman that I met her
I did not expect a specter
When I shook her hand I really shook a glove
She looked into me so sweetly
And we left the room discreetly
No one else could know the secret of our love

Little ghost, little ghost
One I’m scared of the most
Can you scare me up a little bit of love?
I’m the only one that sees you,
And I can’t do much to please you
And it’s not yet time to meet the lord above

Every morning I awoke
And I see my little ghost
Wond’rin’ if it’s really her that’s lying there
I lean to touch her and I whisper
But not brave enough to kiss her
When I held her I was really holding air

Little ghost, little ghost
One I’m scared of the most
Can you scare me up a little bit of love?
I’m the only one that sees you,
And I can’t do much to please you
And it’s not yet time to meet the lord above

Though I try my best to keep it
There really was no secret
Must have looked like I was dancing with the wall
No one else could see this apparition
But because of my condition
I fell in love with a little ghost and that was all

Little ghost, little ghost
One I’m scared of the most
Can you scare me up a little bit of love?
I’m the only one that sees you,
And I can’t do much to please you
And it’s not yet time to meet the lord above
No, it’s not yet time to meet the lord above

But lately, Lucas has fallen in love with an album my parents bought in Australia. It’s called A Piece of Australia by a folk/country singer named Slim Dusty (I’m not kidding). The album has tracks such as “Waltzing Mathilda” and a couple of train songs, but the favorite, I think is a tune called “Wobbly Boot.” Almost all the songs on this album are drinking songs.

“Wobbly Boot” Lyrics
Slim Dusty (with Rolf Harris) – 1998

When I was a lad, I remember me Dad coming home late Friday nights
Mum’d be there, she’d give him the glare, ’cause he’d be high as a kite
He’d say, “Sorry I’m late, I had a couple with me mates and we started to sing a few songs
And the next thing you know, it was time to go and I had the wobbly boot on”

Now, me Uncle’s the same, he was never to blame when he came to our house
He’d light up the barbie, rip the top of a stubby and sit there quiet as a mouse
But later in the evenin’ when he was leavin’, even though he was wearin’ thongs
He’d say, “I’m a bit shaky, I think I got me wobbly boot on”

Oh, it’s a curse, there ain’t nothin’ worse, makes you feel like a big galoot
When you’re standin’ there, full of cheer, and somethin’ goes wrong with your boot
You feel like a fool, you try to be cool, but you know it’s no use
So you blame it on your wobbly, wobbly, blame it on your wobbly boot
Your wobbly, wobbly boot

Well, that was years ago and now I know all about these worldly things
How you gotta have some good times in your lifetime, have your little flings
But early in the mornin’, when you’re yawnin’ and you’re not feelin’ too strong
You’re wishin’ over an over you’d stayed sober and you didn’t have your wobbly boot on

BOTH:
Oh, it’s a curse, there ain’t nothin’ worse, makes you feel like a big galoot
When you’re standin’ there, full of cheer, and somethin’ goes wrong with your boot
You feel like a fool, you try to be cool, but you know it’s no use
So you blame it on your wobbly, wobbly, you blame it on your wobbly boot
Your wobbly, wobbly boot

SPOKEN:
HARRIS: Ya know, Slim, it’s a dirty job, but I reckon somebody should look into this little matter.
DUSTY: Is that right?
HARRIS: ‘Cause it seems to me the bootmakers must be usin’ wobbly leather.
It’s a flamin’ disgrace to the Aussie race, as it’s gone on for far too long.
They should make ’em stronger, make ’em last longer
BOTH: Then we wouldn’t have our wobbly boots on.
DUSTY: Ah yeah!

BOTH:
Oh, it’s a curse, there ain’t nothin’ worse, makes you feel like a big galoot
When you’re standin’ there, full of cheer, and somethin’ goes wrong with your boot
You feel like a fool, you try to be cool, but you know it’s no use
So you blame it on your wobbly, wobbly, you blame it on your wobbly boot
Your wobbly, wobbly boot
You blame it on your wobbly boot

When my dad takes Lucas to school on Wednesday mornings, they listen to this album on the way. One day, when parting, dad said to Lucas, “G’day, Wobbly Boots!” Now 23 kindergarten children call my dad, and sometimes Lucas, Wobbly Boots, thanks to a song about getting drunk.

Thanks, Slim!

“Becoming a parent may happen on purpose or by accident, but however it comes about, parenting itself is a calling. It calls us to recreate our world every day, to meet if freshly in every moment. Such a calling is in actuality nothing less than a rigorous spiritual discipline—a quest to realize our truest, deepest nature as a human being. The very fact that we are a parent is continually asking us to find and express what is most nourishing, most loving, most wise and caring in ourselves, to be, as much as we can, our best selves.”

—Myla and Jon Kabat-Zinn, from Everyday Blessings: The Inner Work of Mindful Parenting

Usually, when Lucas is dropped off in the morning, he jumps into the thick of things right away. Very often Ian takes him to school. Today was a Parent Tea day, though, so I took him and stayed with him in his classroom for about a half hour. All the other parents were there, too.

Lucas proudly displayed two projects he’s been working on lately: a small, decorated gourd shaker that he confidently pulled out of a basket of 23 other gourd shakers. Sure enough, his name was written on it! He also showed me his Indian crown that he sewed from felt and beads. It has two lovely feathers in it, too—blue and red. I asked him if he made it himself and he proudly said yes, he even sewed on the beads. It was cool!

For circle time, we got to hear a few of the Indian/Thanksgiving songs (very cute!) that they’ve been learning. At first, Lucas participated with gusto, but as the circle of children danced hand-in-hand and he moved farther away from me to a position across the room, I saw him become somber and stop singing and doing the hand motions. When the teachers dismissed the parents for the day, he came to me in tears and said, “I want to stay with you!” We don’t often see displays of separation anxiety from him anymore, which is due partly to his age and partly to the exciting and fun nature of the activities he does without us. Somehow, my being with him in his classroom for a short time was enough to throw him off his normally self-assured and independent nature.

He was tearful when I passed him to his teacher and said goodbye, assuring him that I would be back at 12:30 to pick him up today. I had been kind of dreading this afternoon because he will be home and I have lots of work to do. It’s difficult to get any work done with him at home. But now, I feel happy that we’ll be able to spend the rest of the day together. My independent little guy still needs me sometimes.

“This fighter is another of Mama-san’s punk dolls. She’s quite pretty if you like girls who sword fight in spiked chokers, short skirts, and pigtails.”

And I say, who doesn’t?

So, the rest of the world may be going to hell in a handbasket, but for the moment in my little corner of Fair Oaks, things are pretty rosy. It’s currently 80 degrees F, and slanting golden sunlight is filtering through golden leaves everywhere I look.

Lucas and I just spent an hour playing at a little creek by his school. We walked there from the school parking lot and found a lovely spot at the creek. It’s shallow—no more than 4 inches deep—and the creek bottom is completely sandy with no rocks, sticks, or other pokey things. The creek is about 6 feet wide at this spot and he can roam about 30 feet and I can still see him. Lucas spent his hour in his underwear splashing, dancing, and building a dam with sticks. He raced leaves floating downstream (fairy boats). We had no arguments when it was time to go and he tromped both up- and downhill with little prodding and coaxing.

We’re definitely going back, weather permitting.

Today at the grocery store, the bagger boy helped bring my groceries to the car. On the way, he inquired, “What kind of baby are you having?”

I thought, A muskrat! But I replied, “A boy.”

“Oh, that’s great!” he said, as though that was the answer he was hoping for.

Whatever, I thought.

He put the groceries into the back of my car while I buckled Lucas into his carseat.

“Can I touch your baby?” Creepy Bag Boy asked, reaching out his creepy hand to touch me.

“No!”

“OK. No problem,” he said as he pushed the cart away.

Yes, it’s a problem! You creep! I thought. People are fucking weird.

Anybody ever done any silk dying or painting? I want to learn how to do it. I found a lot of info on this site: http://www.dharmatrading.com/silkpainting/dyes-vs-paints.html

But when it comes to learning stuff like this, I learn so much better by watching/assisting someone or at least muddling through with another beginner by my side.

Silk scarves have become an important plaything around here (a la Waldorf). They are wonderful and infinitely useful. Unfortunately, they’re rather expensive, particularly the plant-dyed ones, which come in more natural colors.

Anybody game to try it with me?

Today was a stay-at-home-and-get-some-stuff-done day. We raked leaves and pine needles. Ian cleaned and repaired the rain gutters. We planted some “brown and bumpy” bulbs (some, or even most, of which may not grow because they were purchased last fall, not this fall). I edited three crummy chapters of a crummy book. Lucas helped me make muffins in the morning and I made meatloaf and sauteed zucchini for dinner (with an extra meatloaf to freeze for another evening’s meal).

We are greatly enjoying a bounty of pomegranates, some of which were given to us by Lucas’s former teacher and some of which came from our dear Bs. (Thank you, Bs!) They are huge, rosy, and fat, bursting with thousands of sweet ruby gems. We have one for dessert every night. Lucas thinks they’re the best food ever: Food of the Gods, even.

I have been blessed lately to hear more often, “Mommy, you’re the sweetest, most beautiful, most kindest, nicest mommy in the whole world” than “Mommy, you’re mean. You’re a mean mommy! I hate you!” In the early morning, when Lucas pads into our bedroom to join us in bed for a snuggle, he tells me I’m the best mom in the world. And it’s wonderful! I endeavor to hold it in the front of my brain all day long like an anchor keeping me to my purpose despite being tossed about by our current moods and stresses.

Today, Lucas decided that his dad is the best daddy in the whole world and told Ian so. I think it was the first time Ian ever received such superlative praise from Lucas. It made Ian feel great, I think, and thus is worth writing about. They worked hard together today, with tools and in the garage. A bonding day.

The Halloween Fairy took the candy to the Sugar Sprite earlier this week so she can feed her Sugar Babies. Lucas was pleased to help the babies get enough food and cheerfully traded his (rather small) stash of candy for the pretty gnomes the Fairy left him. We’ve been building gnome homes and decorating them with rocks and crystals. The gnome “play set” is quite elaborate. We also have discovered that beeswax sculpting produces easy and serviceable gnomes. The more we play with that stuff, the more I’m convinced it’s the most perfect toy ever created—as long as you have a daddy with warm hands around to soften up the wax a little.

I picked up my knitting again last night. I’m about 3/4 of the way done with a scarf I started last winter and never completed. I think I may finish it soon. Creative pursuits are good for my spirit right now, I think. I’m trying to come up with a Christmas craft that I can make by the dozens to give as gifts this year. The challenge is, whatever it is has to be made for under $2 a piece.

On Friday I went to coffee with my mother and dangled a whole new knitting challenge in front of her: wool diaper soakers. They’re worn (by babies) over cloth diapers like the dreaded “plastic pants” but they’re soft, washed in lanolin and therefore are nearly waterproof and have mysterious antibacterial properties. They’re all the rage in the Natural Parenting circles, so of course, I must have some! Mom is cranking out socks like there’s no tomorrow. Lucas now has a drawerful of gorgeous handmade socks.