Bras! and Jocks! and Cups!, oy vey

My daughter is fascinated by my bras.  Me, not so much.  I could go as far as to say that I despise them.  From the training bras from JC Penny's to the lace demi of today, I've never found one that doesn't show under a t-shirt, fits perfectly or doesn't make me want to rip it off in the middle of an airplane after a day long up and back trip for work. 

So it was with little to no sympathy that I faced my son who was experiencing his first jock strap and cup for his stint as catcher on his Little League team.  First it was too big, then too small, then it made him itch and sweat.  Ten minutes later he was still going on about walking funny and sounding funny.  After telling him he wouldn't have to worry about sounding funny if he'd stop "knocking" on his cup, I tried to tell him that he'd get used to it, that he'd be experiencing a lot of new things in the coming years...blah, blah, blah.  I mean it sounded trite to me and by the look on his face, it sounded more nonsensical than the parents in the Charlie Brown specials to him.

And then I found myself saying, jeez, it's a just cup for goodness sake--wear it!  And then something to the effect of , "And look, the pain of not wearing it is far more than the pain of wearing it."

Not my worst moment as a mother, but not my best. The reality is that sometimes it's hard being a mom to a boy.  I founder when trying to talk to him about 'boy things'...I fear I'm too soft, then I overcompensate by being too hard.  It's a bit of whiplash for the both of us, rarely satisfying.

Luckily at these times I have my fall backs, two books that help me regain my equilibrium as a mother of a boy.  The first, Raising Cain by Dan Kindlon and Michael Thompson, has both depth and clarity on the issue of 'indoctrination' into the male culture, something I know/knew nothing about.  The second, Boys Should Be Boys by Meg Meeker is a common-sense look at how all the 'snails and puppy dog tail-ness' of boys is fine and how to encourage it with purpose in mind.  I've never been big on the self-help book train, but these are a life saver not only because they teach me new things, but they also remind me that I'm not marring him for life when I hover or share or whatever a bit too much or too little.

So, after practice and dinner, when he thrust his cup into the air and shouted, "let the glow of the cup light our way home", I was happy to yell back, "And the bra shall guide our way".   I think at that moment both of us hated our respective garments a little less than before.  And I'll take that as a check in the win column.