Male Brain Envy

Last week brought a new mommy experience my way.  The boys picked the basement for their venue of play after dinner.  I was busy completing typical mommy tasks in the kitchen and thrilled that I wasn’t interrupted once in nearly an hour!  As we headed up to bath, I noticed one boy had a black eye.  As the boys were undressing, I noticed another boy was bleeding from his hairline.  The third boy had a red and puffy face, reminiscent of a boxer’s face between rounds of a boxing match.  I could only conclude that after-dinner play had been MMA or some sort of Fight Club.  No one had cried.  Not one boy had ascended from the “ring” to report the rough play.  My mind was in horrified awe trying to imagine what had taken place.  I was left with one thought…..what is wrong with them and their brains?  

Fast forward a week.  We were hosting a classmate for the afternoon.  The three 4-year-olds made their way to the backyard and proceeded to engage in winterization of the playhouse.  The boys had rounded up hammers and a box of nails.  They spent the next hour dutifully hammering nails into the wooden play structure with the intent focus of astrophysicists.  I was thrilled that their brains seemed to have recovered from the MMA incident.  I also couldn’t help but compare the focus they put into that single activity and the five frantic tasks I completed in the same time.  

Before I knew it, I was in awe of the male brain (gasp!) and a little jealous that they can so easily pick one thing to place all their focus.  My husband has been diagnosing and attempting to repair our faulty furnace for a week.  He patiently reads blogs, watches do-it-yourself videos on YouTube, orders parts off of Amazon, and calmly installs the parts when they arrive.  He’s been through three iterations of this.  It’s his one project of the week, and he’ll be a furnace expert when it’s all said and done.  

I, on the other hand, have spent the last week running around like a headless chicken.  Prepping dinner while doing laundry and listening to the school board debate, packing a lunch while prodding the first grader to read me his book, driving to school drop-off while drilling first grader on flashcards, driving to the gym while drilling myself on a memory verse.  My life is one big juggling act of trying to keep countless balls in the air (and I’ve never been much of a juggler). 

I’ve come to realize that my multi-tasking has resulted in a sort of Attention Deficit Disorder.  I have trouble prioritizing when tasks aren’t urgent.  And activities that I enjoy, or that benefit my soul get dropped.  I’m more likely to pick up the toilet brush then a pen to write.  And I’m more likely to stand in the kitchen to prep the food that will fill our stomachs than I am to sit down with my Bible and fill my heart and mind.  Oh if only I could have the simple mind of a male;-) 

Women’s brains are intricate and complex.  God designed us to be multitaskers.  He gave us a desire to fulfill the needs of those around us.  It’s necessary that I juggle many balls throughout my day.  But it’s also necessary that I carefully pick those balls.  Maybe the ones that fill my soul should be considered a little more urgent, and who needs a clean toilet anyway?

Unleashing my inner tiger mom

Fall break is upon us.  Our first grader has a record 1.5 weeks off from school.  (I would have personally preferred an extra week of summer when the pools were open and mountains were warm!)  Of course the long break was complicated with little brothers’ having school for one of the weeks.   Kenny and I found ourselves with lots of quality time together.  Fall break fell right after conferences, so I had plenty of ideas for activities (aka school related learning) that could fill our quality time together.  I’ve been read a lot of books that go something like this, “The dog is hot.  The boy is hot.  The dog and boy get a drink.”  Riveting, let me tell you!  And we scored a Star Wars workbook at the store, which has received praise from my Star Wars-obsessed 1^st grader.  

Reading and writing were going well…so it was time to start counting by fives.  I decided that the lunch table would be a good place to start.  I demonstrated counting by fives.  The four of us counted by fives together.  Then it was the 1^st graders turn to give it a whirl.  His effort was lack luster to say the least.  I helped him a bit, but lost it when his younger brothers started offering assistance!  We cleared the dishes and broke out the dry erase board.  This new tactic was met with zero enthusiasm.  So I reminded the struggling academic that counting by fives was a first grade skill that if he failed to learn would have him repeating the first grade rather than moving on to second grade with his friends.  His response?  “I don’t mind doing first grade again!” WHAT!  This child obviously has mutated genes….and he obviously doesn’t realize his mother’s stellar academic history.  I was in the academic hall of fame in high school, graduated from college with honors and a Bachelor’s degree in engineering, and achieved the same level of success while completing a Masters degree in business.  So the chances of my son repeating first grade because counting by fives (or any other required skill) doesn’t excite him?  Well I’d say there would be a better chance of snow Brittany Spears being the first female president.  And I promptly declared Fall break “1^st grade boot camp”.  My oldest child was going to embrace learning even if it meant taking everything out of his room except pencil, paper and flashcards, and I proceeded to tell him so.  We spent the next hour painfully counting by fives until he started showing some improvement and I started sweating.  

The tiger mom has been unleashed.  We do sight-word flashcards whenever we’re in the car.  Kenny is required to read us a book during any family reading time.  The Star Wars writing workbook has a permanent place on the kitchen counter, and I've hung a 100's chart over the picture in our kitchen.  I have always judged tiger moms….but now my viewpoint has shifted ever so slightly.  I will do everything in my power to keep my child from failing.

Of course this little episode gave me an “aha” moment when it comes to my relationship with God.  I am His beloved child, and He is determined to get some lessons through to me.  He’s patient, allowing me to take as long as I need.  He’s willing to repeat lessons until I finally get it, and I’m positive there’s a celebration in heaven when I do.  I may have been an academic all-star in school, but I’m pretty sure heaven has me classified as special needs—ha!  But however slowly I’m moving, at least I’m moving forward towards Him….and that’s all only thing that counts.