A distant cousin of mine (distant by relation and not by proximity or affection) has a four year old who goes to the same preschool as Madison. As the mother works and the child is cared for by the grandmother I have been called upon to drive him to and from school. A task not requiring much of me other than a degree more patience (he and Madison have begun to argue not unlike brother and sister) and a small detour to my usual route.

In the first week of this childpooling arrangement Sam honored us with near constant humming of his favorite tune: The Imperial March from Star Wars.

Near cosntant humming. And when you tried to speak to him over this humming he would hum louder and louder and at a higher pitch the more you dared interrupt. It was cute. For about ten minutes.

Today when I picked him up Sam informed me that all boys like to play rough, it’s what they do. He said this almost as though he knew of my struggle with Jacob’s inclination to wrestle every human being he encounters to the ground. He was telling me it was alright, embrace the teststerone, it’s alright, go ahead, no one will hate you.

I asked him if that were true, that all boys like to play rough and he said yes. He said they like to do battle. He likes to do battle. Battle is fun and all boys like battle.

He then told me he had some kind of swords at home by way of proof or perhaps by way of demonstrating that not only did he like to do battle but was also ready to do battle should I get out of line. I took him at his word. I have no doubt that he has swords at home. From the way he talks it sounds like damned near everything he does has to do with battling of some kind. His favorite thing in the world is Star Wars Lego for XBOX.

Cute, right? But also? Lots and lots of battling and guns! Boys like to play rough! It’s what they do!

Dan and I are extra super careful about how much violence and traditionally boy fare Jacob is exposed to. He is a battling kind of kid, to be sure. Sam’s hit the nail on the head when it comes to my boy, no doubt. I’ve seen him take on kids twice his size and have no common sense about it whatsoever. Bigger than me, he scoffs, and finds an even bigger kid to prove his point.

Anyone who says you can raise boys to be something other than boys is wrong. I’ll admit that there are male children who do not like so much to do battle. I know such children. But I also know the kind Sam refers to and find them to be the norm. Boys will, if they are so inclined, be boys and I think the time has come to embrace that. Let them knock eachother around. It’s what they want to do and the world needs some guys around who aren’t afraid to stand up for us when there is a bear about. Or a nasty spider. Or worse.

I think, though, that it is possible to let boys be boys - let them crash about in a testosterone induced state of battle - while at the same time teaching them to be responsible about it. You do this, I think, by giving them a richer base of experience from which to draw when interacting in society. There was a time when boys will be boys meant ach, nevermind them, they’re just brutes, let them be. For some reason the desire to wrestle with their friends at recess rendered boys exempt from human activities requiring intellect and depth.

Lately though there’s been this movement. Boys don’t have to be boys, after all, The People cried, we can turn them into girls. All we had to do was love them right and keep them from hitting one another. That’d fix it all. No more hitting, gents. Just keep your hands and feet to yourself.

The kindergarten teachers of the world knew this was going to be an exercise in nonsense. Because boys really do like to do battle. They do like to play rough. As much as girls like to play gentle.

Which opens the whole can of let’s take the girl out of girls by setting Barbie aflame and giving them baseball gloves and jockstraps instead.

We’ve essentially been working toward a reversal of gender roles. Boys, you go play with the barbies and stop bashing things and you girls, take this stick and hit stuff with it. You’ll be better off. You’ll thank us later. We’re fixing you.

There are people out there who still subscribe to the philosophy that you can keep boys from rough housing by simply speaking to them in preschool teacher tones of voice. You can’t and you know what? You don’t want to. They’re like this for a reason and while I do not believe for a minute that this excuses bad behavior or precludes their ability to do well in other areas of social existence, I do not think we should be trying erradicate masculinity.

My goal, as parent of one tough little motherfella, is to let him be who he is, follow his own path, and when he needs direction I will give it to him. I will give him depth of character and I will let him figure out for himself that if you put your fists up with a kid twice your size you might get knocked around. I will let him take his knocks but I will be there to protect him if he cannot do so for himself. I’m his mother and I like who he is. I like this boy and I am done with this nonsense that he’s not good enough if he likes to do battle. Sam’s right, boys like to do battle and that’s okay. They also like to read and paint and help their mom bake muffins and carry their sister’s backpack and shovel snow with their dad and collect money for the Christmas Cheer Board and when they watch ET for the first time they will cry when it looks like ET is dead and do you know why? Because boys are more than the sum of their battles. Boys are amazing just the way they are.