The Real Momma's Boy!

Over the years I have heard the phrase, 'Momma's Boy', that mythical statement of doom and gloom that foreshadows every son's relationship with his mom. Then we have 'Daddy's Girl', the bona fide gold standard for all girls, lucky enough to have had a dad or male role model in her life, a protector who watches over her as she grows and develops. As a mother of three boys, I resent the pathological implications of the words, 'Momma's Boy'. ... Enough already!

When we have children a strong bond is forged that lasts forever. How that bond unfolds helps to shape the men or women our sons or daughters eventually become. We can empower or enslave our children. The choice is ours to make. The steps towards a future of women in our lives, begin in childhood. Our parenting style and the choices we make, for them, help point our children in the right direction. Their strength of character rests with us.

The 'boys will be boys' attitude was not tolerated, in our home. The human condition was always in play. Short cuts were not permitted. It would have been so easy to look the other way, but I lived there, too. An inhospitable home environment benefited no one, including any future 'daughters'. That was not the road to success and personal happiness. ... As a mom of boys, I made the conscious decision, early on, to raise our sons into caring, thinking, sensitive men. From the beginning, our boys were expected to finish 'school' while being contributing members of the work-force, early on. That was an expectation. Their love of animals was a recurring theme from the beginning. ... Double standards were not welcome, here. ... Our decades-long pet-ownership habit did most of the work, however, of raising our boys-to-men. Stereotyping women in a men-only household was not welcome, anytime. ... There was a standard in place at all times, after all, mom was a girl, too, I reminded them, in case they had forgotten where I had originated! 

“The son is a son until he takes a wife. A daughter is a daughter all of her life.” so the tale goes. The limerick rhymes but has no meaning or place in my world. How does that build harmony? Already we are dividing the sexes. A relationship between parent and child that manifests love, trust and respect is truly the only one to model. It is a bond that grows then keeps on giving. The sex of a child should have no bearing on whether a healthy relationship exists between parent and child. Keeping adult sons or daughters dependent upon us, is wrong, in every way and clearly shows that we have fallen short of our mandate, in our duty, as parents. In our attempts to keep our children close, do we strip them of their independence and democratic right to choose? The consequences of such a choice can be foolhardy.

When the last of our three boys arrived, (3 preemies within a 4 year span) my mom was disappointed that a daughter had not been born. I would not have a close relationship with our boys, she believed. Her thinking was terribly skewed.  Having only boys or only girls brings with it a special kind of harmony, to the home, as each child possess a greater understanding of his/her same sex sibling, in unique and special ways, at every stage of development. Boy or girl, why does it matter? Birth is a random event, anyway. Let us not be silly. Let us be ever so grateful!

Over the years, I have met many delightful young ladies, in my male-dominated household. “What is she like?”, someone would ask. “What's not to like?”, I would respond. She was not a member of a foreign species. She was a much younger version of me. I would be her temporary 'mom', doting on her, in my house of men. She was my responsibility, my guest of honor. Her parents would he comforted knowing their daughter was part of my 'protected' species and I was her game warden! Our boys knew how to treat these gems. (I wanted daughters-in-law, someday.) That would not happen if modeling behaviour from me and dad was not apparent, in our sons' early canvas of life. Girls or boys possess the ability to rise or fall on their own merits, I would remind our sons. Boys were not better. They were different. That is all! Growing up, our sons were told how special they were -  to us –  but not more important than anyone else, anywhere else. Everyone was important, too. How they treated others was what mattered most. When girls entered our home, I was watching and listening to the tones, words and actions of my male 'characters'. ... A spy could be lurking in their midst. They knew and understood. 

To really understand a momma's boy, have lunch with his mom. It will help elucidate 'his' story, past and present. Do not fear an alliance. A healthy relationship is the goal. For me, it was not just about being a mom. It was also about being a woman, too. I would hope she enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed hers. There was a link to our past: we were both female. ... Is momma dramatic, hateful, unfriendly, indifferent or 'in love' with you, your thoughts, ideas and goals? Is she focused only on 'him'? Is she interrogating you as if a potential witness or having lunch with a friend? Her intentions, made clear, will give you a sense of the man with whom you are holding court.

Controlling our children's lives is time-consuming, hard work and simply another job in an already hectic life. We are in a holding pattern, forever. What is the point? It is also a waste of our own potential, as we wait. Not being the central figure in our son's life should not be a life-changing event. We were never meant to be there, anyway. Children belong to us only temporarily. A real momma's boy is loving, driven, considerate!

It was soon after they started dating that I met and fell 'in love.' Afraid that my son's future happiness might not unfold as I wished it to, I whispered in her ear, "If he does not marry you, I will”. So the story goes. We laughed. ... I am blessed, again! I will wait with baited breathe for a future of untold wealth: one more girl to add to my treasure trove of two, already here. There is no greater gift a real momma's boy can give momma than another girl to love. It is the gift that keeps on giving!

Mr. Wiggles' Return

There walks our playful Mr. Wiggles. He has been through much this past year. A soft lump under his soft golden furry chin, beginning last Fall, disappeared, reappeared, disappeared, then grew again, to epic proportions! Now it is gone, the result of emergency surgery one morning, in March, of this year. This soft egg-shaped lump under his chin had morphed and hardened late one evening, right before our eyes. “Did that really happen?” I asked my husband. "Did it grow while we weren't looking? Was this thing finally going to show us its true intent?"... (Six square inches of 'new growth' had solidified into a massive hard-ball over a four-hour period.)  

Our sweet gentle Mr. Wiggles now had a double chin. "When did that happen?", I queried my husband  "He had only one chin this morning."  “Would it explode?" I seriously wondered. ... At 5:00 a.m. we spirited our little guy to the Toronto Veterinary Emergency Hospital. (The emergency on-call physician examined him and reported that our sweet Mr. Wiggles had an infection, increased heart rate and fever.) ... Later that morning, emergency surgery ended the medical mystery that had plagued our little guy, his family, and many veterinarian specialists, for months. That was definitely a walk on the wild side.

It has been two years since all four pups met. Mall Cop is now 4; 'Sally', 6; 'Ella' and Mr.Wiggles, 2. With an emergency surgical event a recent memory and a skunk attack long past, we are now in awe of these mystical creatures, called dogs, whose past escapades has made TheMomsey a little wiser and more in love. ... Mall Cop and his sister, 'Ella', the mini-schnauzer, meet in doggie-day-care, when dad travels. (Mom is a French Immersion teacher.) Playtime is an established pattern, of the highest order now. Each pair has its own unique style of running and playing before meeting together for  that "what have you been up to" look. I am slowly becoming a dog psychologist. I study them very carefully. They are a majestic species to watch and study.

Winter is gone. Warm weather is such welcome respite from the harshest season of all. 'Ella' and her brother, Mall Cop, run, pounce, dance, then wrestle. He runs like the wind. Ella runs faster. I laugh at the spontaneity, the choreography of their dance. It is their time, now. 

Mr. Wiggles' exuberance keeps him in an adjacent area, as he waits for the call, for admission into the group. He has created his own personalized training session with his sister, Sally. For them, tug-of-war, carrying a large silicone basket ball between them, is an intense morning work-out. ... His former pack leader, our 'adult' son, appears and leads them all into the pen for another running marathon. I watch in wonder. How many dogs are in there, really? Our son runs with abandon, as he did as a child, long long ago, before Mall Cop was born. His youthful approach to all manner of dogs has not changed. He is one of them. Being human, in the doggie world, is a crazy, yet exhilarating place to be. But he forgets he is a married man and father.  So what, he thinks. His wonderful wife understands his special relationship with dogs, of all makes and sizes.

Mr. Wiggles, is close at hand, waiting ever so patiently. He is older and wiser, now, but still wiggling to the absurd, always carrying a gift to the door, whenever someone comes to visit. Whom will he interrogate today? ... 'Ella' and 'Sally' continue where they last left off, in a track-and-field session of their own making. It is a more intense, reliable tool for showcasing their indomitable spirit and their camaraderie, towards each other. Girls just want to have fun. Even the furry ones! Mall Cop and Mr. Wiggles just watch, wondering how it happened that these two thought they could form their own little clique and not include them? But this is a good thing. The girls want to be left alone. Maybe, someday, the boys can be included, too.

With 4 dogs, high energy is always present. Exercise is what keeps them and us energized, healthy, happy and calm. Do endorphins reside in the brain of the dog? Maybe. Mall Cop and Mr. Wiggles do not always agree. Mr. Wiggles likes to play, non-stop; Mall Cop, simply to be left alone. They argue. But the Momsey is the judge, refusing to hear closing arguments. Each is responsible for his own part in the play. Disciplinary action soon follows. Mr. Wiggles needs to know he is not in charge. Neither is Mall Cop, however. 'Big Face', otherwise known as Mr. Wiggles, follows the fun, attempting to separate Mall Cop and Ella in their special dance. He is moving to a beat of his own and seems to be lost in translation. His harness, rather than a collar, helps re-direct him, more easily. The collar is off and a wrap around scarf is on since surgery made us aware how delicate the neck area can be. Life is so much fun for Mr. Wiggles. He looks like a suitcase, easier to catch and hold, too! He carries a gift for that special someone wherever he goes. We understand.

A raw diet is now front and center for Mall Cop and Ella. They love it so! Once upon a time, eating was not fun for Mall Cop. He was trying to tell us something. He was telling us to change. The change is good. All four eat raw fruit and vegetables, daily, too, – just like bears, in the wild. It is an established, everyday habit.. Red Delicious apples, Grannie Smith, Royal Gala and others, watermelon, berries, cucumbers, cantaloupe, too, are a few of the raw choices, given regularly, on the fruit platter, along-side romaine lettuce, as well.  Really? They jostle for position. The excitement is palpable. The 'twins' on the sofa: the bigger twins, right in front of me. Such patience! So polite! The room is quiet as they wait for their turn. One by one, I dispense these bite-size delightful raw morsels. I am so in awe of them. They have much to teach us. The platter is licked clean.

Inside, a new routine has emerged. Mall Cop is now giving facial massages to all. Gentle facial strokes, from this diminutive statesman, are a poignant pause from the hustle and bustle of the day-long marathon of runs, hits and misses. All seem to be meditating now. The chewing carousel has ended. Mall Cop dispenses his gentle form of patience, wisdom and love. They gratefully accept his gift, then fall asleep. I am grateful and  so lucky. ... Love knows no bounds in the house of puppies.

"A Mind of Your Own"

As I gazed at our 5-pound preemie, upon our arrival home from hospital, the thought of the awesome power I possessed in altering the life of this newly formed human being hit me hard. How would I transform this innocent little being into a confident, successful, socially adept adult? What were those magical steps towards adulthood? There weren't any, of course. What I feared most, however, as I looked into the face of innocence was mind control, the power one human had over another 24/7 - without consent!

It was 1979- when our first-born arrived - an era where cults, those groups of individuals whose motives for admission into their special group, remained unclear, yet foreboding, for parents. They were always headline news. Their code of strict adherence to 'company doctrine' made some young adults perfect candidates for this submissive way of life. Utter subservience and control by these charming, yet seeming altruistic strangers was their goal. Would our son and any future children be perfect candidates or victims for this mind-playing game, led by these charismatic leaders? It was hard to tell at the tender age of 2 months – that first day home - what sort of person our son would grow up to be. Wondering how to protect him from this avarice control, of the criminal kind, would become a priority for me. Complete strangers could have an effect on our children and we would have no say in the matter. Neither side would be listening! Neither side would care! We would be totally powerless.

From the beginning, each of our children had decisions to make : what to wear, co-operative behaviour at home and school, food choices, bedtime hours, work ethic etc.. Encouragement of good decisions were constant reminders of the future and the consequences that would follow each of these decisions. ... Full independence, by high school, would help prepare our boys for a life - beyond - living with us! Their self-worth, sense of well being and confidence had to be fully formed by then. It was critical for establishing who they were, before leaving home.

We are our children's protectors, their nurturers, from birth, as they slowly begin to develop and evolve into creatures of formidable potential. Are we courageous enough to begin the evolutionary task of handing over the reins of power in preparation for the unknown awesome journey that lay ahead for them? Are we worried they will not listen to us? (Later, the problem could very well be some unknown 'entity' not envisioned in our wildest imagination that 'replaces' us in their lives.) ... Our children need to acquire and practice, the art of good decision-making, from the beginning.

It had been raining heavily when the absurd, in mind control, entered our lives. As I waited for our sons to depart from school, I noticed one son carrying his rubber boots. As he climbed into the car, I listened as the story unfolded. He had been ridiculed and demeaned for his choice of footwear. His right to wear them brought him face to face with the #1 nemesis of our children: the omnipotent bully, the CEO of mind control. They walk in all levels of society, of either sex, not needing a reason to ply their trade to anyone who falls victim to their model of tyranny. Today, it was our young son's turn at the wheel. And so my lecture began. "Strangers' intrusion into our lives was a fact of life," I replied to him, as his brothers - primary grade students also - listened. "Get used to it," I continued, "but learn to ignore it! I will teach you." Others who impart their personal crude rule of justice are jealous, unhappy or worse, bullied themselves in other environments. They have no self-esteem, sadly, and perhaps are powerless in other areas of their lives. It would seem fair to strip others of their sense of well-being and fair play. Bullies retaliate without thought or reason against those who are easy prey, not prone to quirks of aggressive behaviour. Imposing their will upon others gives bullies their self-worth, the power they so desperately crave. Their need to control adds yet another layer of chaos into their already chaotic lives. They are intrusive and overbearing. Bullies lurk everywhere, in all places. Mom or dad cannot always be there to help, I reminded Alex. “Tomorrow, you will re-gain control. It is your responsibility. It will be a new day." 'Alex' would ask the questions, engage with words, and role-play what he had learned, in the car, the previous day, in the hastily executed lesson, from mom. This bully's intrusion into our lives would not be tolerated. We were minding our own business. She was not! At the end of the next school day, with rain still pouring down, the 'rehearsal' of the previous day, had left its mark. Out of the school came our 'boot wearing' son! ... The words of yesterday's lesson still echoed in his head, in typical 'Momsey' fashion. Mind control was brought to a close. 'His boots were made for walking', once again. 

Tyranny had paid a short visit but was sent on its merry way. ...  As a high school senior, 'Alex' was witness to yet another example of bullying when his junior 'buddy' was seen being 'bothered' by an older boy, in the cafeteria. The objectionable nature of the meeting - during lunch – caught Alex's attention, immediately. He approached his junior buddy knowing how he felt. Let me know if he comes calling again, Alex remarked. The young boy would. Another oppressive moment had come to an end. The freshman student seemed to come alive, in the knowledge that help was close at hand, if ever needed. His confidence restored, he continued to eat his lunch. Mind control was sent away, again.

What our children wear, the music they listen to, their sometimes ridiculous hair cuts and colours, the accessories of attire, will be 'small potatoes' when mind control comes home to roost. Our mandate, as parents, is simple: to ensure our children have a voice, showing them the power they wield and the results of a life well-lived. Failure to execute this 'right to think' policy, early in their lives, will simply open the door for others to occupy our children's mind, once inhabited by their thoughts and opinions. A child with a mind of his own is a beautiful thing, after all.   

The Frenetic Housing Market!

"Register now for new releases", the sign reads. “Coming soon”, says another. ... Great anticipation and warmer weather are fueling the house buying frenzy, inspiring us to act now! 

A new housing development is being built in an area that, for years, had remained dormant for development. Now, with a new highway-404- extension completed and sewers in place, the area is abuzz with newly discovered energy, the result of this unexpected housing boom. Population growth will follow. We had moved out of the area decades ago. Soon after, house prices began their slow ascent. Real estate is now a hot topic. This is the place to be. The buying frenzy, of yore, is now again rearing its ugly face, everywhere we go. Now it is in a newer community that has waited for the highway extension to be completed. ...

Today's techno world has helped perpetuate the myth of the 'buy now or lose out' mentality for the house buying public. . We hear about it. We read about it. We see its visual roadside reminders: "Current phase is sold-out, new release coming", soon! We are made perpetually aware. ... Pent-up demand keeps us on the edge. The thrill of home ownership is an ever recurring theme and dream, in our lives, as we hope to save as much as we can for a little piece of country. ... In this northern community, anything goes, it now seems. New housing starts began at the 'low' end of $300,000, last year. The year before, it was the low $200,000's. Registering now is our only hope in staking our claim in the current hot real estate market. This ever- recurring theme makes fools out of us.The developers and agents begin their media spin. 'Hot' moves us to buy and sell our soul simply to get our foot in the door. The message is clear: we are doomed if we fail to exercise our democratic freedom, ASAP. We are reminded of the urgency of home ownership. Some of us 'buy' into that stale, overused mantra, like we are doomed to squander our lives if we do not act now. Anxiety feeds the rush to buy. We are imprisoned by its words. Then the banks step in and the financial rules of lending bring us to a halt. The interest rate rises, helping to stem the tide of our frenzied buying habit. House sales begin their slow decline. We are reminded to 'chill out'.

If we miss out on a sale, on anything, let it be. There will always be another opportunity, a better, newer product, to consider, certainly a better price than the inflated one now being advertised. Then we have the biggest equalizer of all in real estate - price correction. Prices drop because they must. The market can only exist if there are buyers willing and able to pay exorbitant house prices. (At some point, the bubble will burst. It always has.) ... Paying more than something is worth is akin to giving away hard-earned - (after-tax) - money to a stranger, with absolutely no conditions attached, whatsoever! None of that makes sense. What about our children's future? ...Then we engage in the hedonistic practice of a bidding war, in a game of auctioning off the house to the highest bidder, without conditions, a house inspection or reason! We must learn to walk away.

(What is a house? We are buying bundles of studs, sheets of drywall, flooring, windows, doors, staircases, locked into position with nails and screws. These formed 'boxes' are interconnected, with air encapsulated within these leveled posts, walls and ceilings, all meticulously crafted by teams of professionals.) ... Bidding wars help only one person. It is never the buyer! Try and sell your over-priced house later and see what happens. We must learn self control and let it go! Dream another day.

The newest housing development, further south, began advertising detached and town homes, in the low $500,000 price tag! ... Now, the sign reads $600,000! How did that happen? Had a bidding war occurred without the buyer's knowledge, under the guise of increased costs to the builder? Once upon a time, the house was a place to live, not a lottery win or a quick investment. Families would live together for many years, while saving for the down payment, buy, move into their own place then start the trend all over again with their own children. Housing was never meant to be a short-term investment. If our parents could, the house was paid off as quickly as possible. Money was respected and dining out was a special treat not a weekly routine. Though hourly wages were low or not much more, in those times, housing costs were a manageable part of the family budget. Today, who can keep up with it all?

Now we have cottage owners beginning to feel the pinch of living in their special piece of heaven. They are bemoaning the fact that new assessments on family lakefront properties have finally caught up to their dwellings current appraisal. Property taxes are out of sight, for some! ... Affordable living in cottage country is now losing its luster, becoming a burden for some owners. In some areas, living in a rural setting has slowly caught up with the costs of living in the city. Complaining about the taxes is an out of context event that does not imbue pity. Let us look at the whole picture, not just one aspect of it. The country dwelling, near water, is now worth more than ever imagined. Property taxes can become a real threat to owning a cottage today. But the solution is simple. Sell and realize the dream of a lifetime: the dollar bonanza that will result. For the rest of us, owning a home, one at a time, is all we can ever hope for.

Today's house prices are ridiculous, in many areas, and rising quickly. Saving for a down payment needs to begin when we are young. Spending 100% discretionary income when no such thing exists in the real world is to develop a very bad habit, hard to break later when we finally smarten up. Our future needs to be protected. The unending purchases of DVD's, clothing, dining out will not lead us to financial security. There is no money tree. With part-time jobs a reality for many people and teens, long term, and house prices rising faster than anyone could have ever imagined, saving for the future must start now.

Giving in to the hyped up 'hysteria' of buying a house, ready or not, only fuels the increase of the selling price. We need to do what is right. Sometimes, it is simply to walk away! ... What is wrong with that?