Hindsight Parenting: When Little Boys Grow Up

Not Nurse Nightengale

When Son1 was 17 he had the brilliant idea that he wanted a three person sling shot. It was made out of high tech stretchable exercise bands and was made to launch water balloons at “friends.” I immediately said no to the ludicrous idea knowing full well it wouldn’t be just water balloons that he and his friends would be launching…Nuh uh. I knew my son well enough to know that there would be lots of mischief making with a toy like that. Not surprisingly however, his father DID purchase it for him and my super mom senses were correct that he would choose to use said toy in a way that was NOT recommended…yup…that one fateful day in which he decided to put a potato in the harness that was meant for a water balloon. Yes, I said a potato.

So…picture this if you please… Son1 and two friends decide late at night on a local beach to launch these potatoes into the water. Son1 stands on top of the boardwalk holding the top of the sling shot loaded with a very large potato. Friend 1 and 2 stand below him on the beach holding the other ends of the slingshot. Son1 pulls back on the weapon as far as he can pull. He launches the potato looking ahead to see how far it will fly into the lake. The slingshot DOESN’T release said potato and reaches its elastic forward limit only to shoot backward with the velocity of a freight train and smack him…um…right in the family jewels. He goes down. Down for so long that his friends need to help him back to his father’s house.

Flash 24 hours later. I pick him up and he gingerly comes out of the house walking like Wyatt Erp as if his horse was still between his legs. My eyes brows raise to the heavens and he of course relays the story of the deadly slingshot to me in between sobs of pain and screams of torture.

But it is only after he er…um…describes the…well…the sheer size of his kahunas that I decide to take him to hospital, and all right, I may have been laughing hysterically all the way there. And maybe just maybe I was still laughing in the ER. I may even started to do that cry-laugh where you open your mouth and nothing comes out while tears stream down your face when the nurse who happened to be one of my favorite former students came in to check him…um…down there.

That’s when he chastised me…the nurse that is…my former student using a tone of disappointment in a very “knock-it-off-mom” way. He told me that Son1’s reproductive organs were in a bad way, a very bad way. Then he had me stand up to um… “Take a good look.” <<blink blink>>

And nurse Michael was right. Son1’s jewels were no longer sparkly but instead looked like something out of The Elephant Man movie. To say they were gargantuan was an understatement. And so, I got serious and listened to Nurse Michael as he taught me how to help my son with his groin injury.

So why do I bring up this uncomfortable yet highly entertaining story now? Well, this past week, Son1 had his wisdom teeth pulled; all four, and I didn’t have to take care of him. Not one iota. Nope. It seems at 20, a grown son would rather be taken care of by his very beautiful, very patient girlfriend. Okay, albeit in my house, but taken care of by her no less.

For about a millisecond, I felt left out, slighted, not needed. My boy had grown up and no longer needed his mama to take care of him when he was down and out. But then Hindsight reminded me of the last time I had to take care of him…had to hear on a daily basis ad nauseum about the possibility of him not procreating. And the ice…oh the endless ice..down…ehem there! Suddenly, I was thankful…soooo thankful that he had grown up and matured to the point where he didn’t need his mama that way anymore. And who knows, maybe someday Son1 will have a little one who wants grandma to help nurse him or her back to health when they have a cold or an ear infection…then again…after the great kahuna incident…maybe he won’t.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Logan Fisher

Logan has lived in Glens Falls, NY all her life. By day, she is an educator with 20 years experience, a mom to Aidan and Gannan, her two teenage boys, a new mommy to a beautiful daughter, Ila, and wife to the love of her life, Jeffrey. By night, weekends and any spare time she can find, Logan writes. She loves memoir and also adores writing essays about the challenges of parenthood. This year she started a parenting blog called A Muddled Mother, an honest place where mothers aren’t afraid to speak of the complications and difficulties that we all inevitably experience. Logan has been published in various children’s and parenting magazines including Today’s MotherhoodEye on EducationFaces, and Appleseed.  Logan’s previous column for Hilltown Families, Snakes and Snails: Teenage Boys Tales ran bi-monthly from June 2010-Feb. 2011, sharing stories of her first time around as a parent of two teenage boys. — Check out Hindsight Parenting: Raising Kids the Second Time Around every first and third Tuesday of the month.

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