Raising Boys Is a Full-Contact Sport , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Rachel Balducci

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110 pages

English

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Description

With hilarious true stories and observations, this laugh-out-loud celebration joyfully explores the sweet and wild side of boyhood.

Sujets

Humour

Informations

Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	01 septembre 2012
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781441239792
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0173€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

© 2010 by Rachel Balducci
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com
Spire edition published 2012
Previously published under the title How Do You Tuck in a Superhero?
Ebook edition created 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means for example, electronic, photocopy, recording without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
“I went to look for my copy of Raising Boys Is a Full-Contact Sport and could not find it. That was because my sons had gotten their hands on it. They were reading it aloud and alternately gasping with appreciation and doubling over with laughter at Rachel Balducci’s vivid descriptions of her joy-filled, boy-filled life. In this gem of a book, Rachel gives us the gift of a glimpse of her world. There we find edible toys, toothbrush avoidance, advanced weaponry, appliance abuse, and a whole lot of love. It’s a field guide, a memoir, a mystery, and a love letter all in one. Everyone who is a boy or who loves boys will find something familiar, something hilarious, something awe-inspiring, and something to love.”
Danielle Bean , mother of eight; editorial director, Faith & Family ; author, My Cup of Tea and Mom to Mom, Day to Day
“This book is a celebration of boyhood in all its glory.”
Dr. Kevin Leman , author, Have a New Kid by Friday
“Rachel Balducci’s tales of life in a house full of boys are as warm as they are funny. Her honesty, wit, and insightfulness combine to make Raising Boys Is a Full-Contact Sport a true delight to read. I’m recommending it to all my friends with sons.”
Jennifer Fulwiler , author, ConversionDiary.com
“The best audience for Balducci’s book might be those who are most unlike her people with one child, or people with daughters. Or even people who have no children, but are curious about those who do.
“Balducci is, first and foremost, a reporter, recounting the internal workings of a family that includes five children, all of them boys. She watches them and herself carefully, and remains humble before the truth of her (earthy) experience. She loves the world she inhabits, but includes no strident advocacy in her account of it, relying instead on gentle revelation and a generous dose of humor.”
Matthew Lickona , author, Swimming with Scapulars: True Confessions of a Young Catholic
“With wit and insight, author and supermom Rachel Balducci gives readers a peek into living life in a home filled with boys. Funny, heartwarming, edifying, and always uplifting, Rachel shares her joy for parenting in a way that will inspire you to be a better wife and mom. Rachel Balducci is the ‘cool mom,’ the best friend, and the confidante you are looking for when things start to get a little crazy around your home. She teaches us that family life, with all of its ups and downs, is truly one of life’s greatest gifts.”
Lisa M. Hendey , author, The Handbook for Catholic Moms ; founder, CatholicMom.com
To Paul Vincent
and our boys
For filling my days with adventure, joy, and overwhelming amounts of love
And to
Steve and Karen Swenson
Whose dedication as parents taught me the importance of family in the first place
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Endorsements
Dedication
Introduction: The Grass Is Always Greener 11
1. Proper Care and Feeding 15
2. You Know You’re with Boys When . . . 49
3. Family Togetherness 79
4. The Other Heroes in Our House 117
5. Keeping Up Appearances 137
6. Essentials of a Boy’s Life 155
7. The Sweet Side 183
About the Author
Back Ad
Back Cover
Introduction
The Grass Is Always Greener
It is the fortieth anniversary of my mom and dad’s wedding. My siblings and I have decided to celebrate with a party. We will be inviting a few hundred of their closest friends, and because it is spring, we are having the party in my backyard.
My backyard. The one I use to corral my five sons.
The thing about my backyard is, it’s very proud of its heritage. My grass screams at the top of its botanical lungs that BOYS LIVE HERE, and you’d better not forget it.
How can I forget it, is what I’d like to know. Seriously, I ask myself this question nearly every single day. How, I wonder aloud, can I mask the reality of my life? It’s not that I want to hide the fact that I have boys, but some days it would be nice not to have the lawn advertise our genetics.
One evening as I walked around my yard to prepare for the party, I made note of the state of things. There are bald spots in the grass I don’t know the exact number because there are so many spots that I’m inclined to just count the grass instead. There is a giant mound of dirt in one corner of the yard, where the boys go to mine for treasure or dig to China. There is a lovely birdfeeder attached to the garage it hangs at waist level and gives the impression it is for the boys’ avian enjoyment. Really, I put it that low to cover a giant hole created by an arrow gone terribly astray.
Yes, this yard is home to flying projectiles and sailing basketballs and whirling baseballs. It hosts soccer games and bonfires and the occasional bocce tournament.
This yard has been “rode hard and put up wet.” It screams boy , and that is a difficult sound to drown out.
You can tell a bunch of boys live here. It’s not that we display the Jolly Roger or post Beware signs on the front gate. We don’t even have a rope swing coming off an upstairs window though my boys have been drawing up plans for one. It’s all because of our yard.
I remember a conversation I had with a friend who has one child, a precious little boy who was then approaching toddlerhood.
“Yes,” she admitted, somewhat embarrassed, “there is now a bald spot in the sod where we caught him digging. The hole is almost the size of a quarter!” And I’ll tell you right now, that sentence moved me to tears, on so many levels. Could a hole really be only the size of a quarter? I’ve never seen one that small. And only one hole? How very curious. And sod what is this thing of which you speak?
Of course, I’m painfully aware of what sod is, how I don’t have any, and how I’d really like some. I think all it would take is some lush greens to make me forget every one of my cares in this world.
Unfortunately, my husband has no interest in investing in something that will be gone (but not forgotten) in a matter of months. Have you seen, he’ll ask me, how our boys behave outside? Are you fully aware of their tunneling capabilities?
It’s true those boys can dig. It’s quite impressive, actually. Our boys are some of the most ardent digging machines I have ever seen. If you give them a shovel, they will seek out dirt and excavate before you can say Mike Mulligan.
For a while, when the boys were very little, the digging didn’t bother me. I would send them into the backyard, and if they asked for a shovel, I would generously oblige. My rules were simple: 1) everyone must be wearing closed-toed shoes, and 2) no one is to take out his frustration with shovel in hand. While I agree that a lizard’s tail does indeed grow back, I’d rather not find out if the same would be true of your brother’s finger.
Off they would go, my precious little boys, to spend hours shoveling and exploring across the yard. I would feel slightly bad on those evenings when my husband would arrive home from work after dark and be forced to navigate through a field of divot land mines.
“This is a bad idea,” he would say, rubbing his ankle while leaning against the kitchen wall. “It’s dangerous. And our yard is going to look terrible.”
“It’s fine,” I would say, and then tease him for being so uptight. “What boy doesn’t like to dig?” I’d ask, and then I’d remind my husband that he probably did the same thing when he was a boy.
The thing about the digging was, it bought me time precious, much-needed time, with those boys outside and not in the house literally climbing up the walls. For each hole they dug in the yard, I got thirty minutes of blissful quiet inside.
But now a few years have passed. We are all older and I’m a little wiser. And I want a nice lawn. I’m greedy that way. What’s so wrong, I’ll ask my husband, with wanting things to look beautiful out there? Nothing, he will tell me, except for that tiny detail of your having five boys who are in the habit of digging.
I understand this is not necessarily mutually exclusive; a person can give birth to a bunch of boys and still have a lovely yard. And I do make efforts to beautify what we have. Slowly, I’m building up a nice collection of potted plants and climbing vines and gorgeous hanging baskets around the house. I’ve even added some Tuscan-themed ironwork to the outside of the garage.
It’s just . . . I want more more beauty, more elegance, and mostly, more grass.

Through the Stomach
My boys’ love language is food they love food, and when I buy food they feel loved by me.
One Saturday morning I was headed out to the giant food warehouse club and invited my ten-year-old son, Elliott, to come along. It was like the hottest date he will ever go on in his life.
“What are you getting?” he asked. I explained that I had a list of things to buy, but that he could also pick out some things as well. I am throwing in the towel when it comes to all natural all the time. A few years ago I tried shopping only the perimeter of the grocery store. It didn’t go over too well.
Nothing says I love you like processed food.
When we arrived at the store, my son was almost moved to tears. The sight of a forty-eight-pack of hot dogs left him speechless. His jaw dropped as I heaved a family-size box of waffles into our cart. The beauty of it was almost more than he could bear.
We had a great time together that morning, and daily living was storybook perfect while the larders were full.
I have st