Boys Are Like....Border Collies

As I called to make an appointment for our dog Bella's annual check-up, I was reminded again of what the Vet said when we brought Bella in as a puppy.

"Well, she's a Border Collie. Border Collies are great, but there are a few things you need to know....."

She went on to tell me how they are really high energy, that they need to be active, and that they need a job. They really need a job. She also told me to make sure Bella had lots of toys to keep her from getting into trouble.

All of this proved to be highly accurate. Fortunately, Jimmy didn't mind spending approximately six hours a day throwing a ball for her when she was a puppy. We soon found out that, if she didn't get to chase a ball for approximately six hours a day, she would pace around the house for approximately six hours a night. Because Border Collies are herding dogs, herding N became her job, though we did have to teach her not to grab N's arm with her mouth and attempt to pull her back toward the house. Since then, we have had B and O, and she now has more than enough work to keep her busy. In fact, I'm sure if she could, she would be demanding a raise by now. I'm sure her sweet, obedient, loyal mind is thinking, "Wait a minute. When I came here, you had one quiet, mellow, little girl. Since then you have added two more boys. This is not what I signed up for. Had I known, I would have licked the face of the old lady with the cat when she came to check me out at the shelter, instead of yours."

Because she's sweet, obedient, and loyal, however, Bella has taken it all in stride. She lets B drive her around in the back of his motorized tractor, in spite of the fact that he often yells at her to go away for no apparent reason, right before he starts crying for her to come back. She lets O lay on her, even though he seems to think she's his own personal teddy bear. She lets N hold her hostage in her bed at night, even though she would prefer to be on the couch, which she doesn't have to share with anyone. And while she is equally good to our friends and family, she's also quite protective when it comes to people she doesn't know. Just ask the UPS man.

If B and O occasionally get to be a little rambunctious for her, she doesn't usually let it show. Well, not outwardly, anyway. There was the time that something apparently didn't agree with her, and she threw up. On B's bed. I'm not entirely convinced that was coincidence. But really, haven't we all had days like that? I can certainly think of a few people whose beds I've wanted to throw up on.

I think the main reason Bella tolerates these wild boys so well, though, is because she knows that, in a  lot of ways, they are just like her. They, too, need to be active. In fact, Jimmy often throws the ball for Bella, B, and O. They race to see who can get it first. And just like with Bella, if these boys haven't run enough during the day, it's going to be a rough night. They also need lots of toys, or they will find their own. Some people call this creative. Sometimes it is, but since it usually means that whatever they find ends up creatively broken or creatively colored, I could do without the creativity. Just as Bella needs to have a job, so do B and O. This would not only keep them out of trouble, but would help pay for the diapers I thought at least one of them would be out of by now, as well as the forty-seven granola bars they go through in a week. I just haven't found anyone willing to hire and a one-and-a-half year old and a three-and-a-half year old. But I'm still looking.

In addition to the ways they are naturally like her, I think B and O have picked up on some of Bella's other traits just by living with her. There's a lot of growling in our house, and most of it is not done by the dog. And more than once, I have found myself telling someone to get their brother's arm out of their mouth. B also has also mastered Bella's butt scratching technique, though he usually only demonstrates it in Church. Fortunately, I have not found anyone licking their butt. Yet.

In some ways, Bella could probably teach these boys a thing or two. She's a pretty good listener. In fact, I sometimes think I could probably walk her without a leash. At some point this may even become necessary, as there are days when B and O definitely need the leash more than she does. When I feed her, she either eats it, or she doesn't. But she doesn't tell me she doesn't like it, or ask me for something better, or ask me for a snack half an hour later. I can't say the same for one of the boys in our house. I'm hoping he will eventually learn by her example. And, if she could teach him how to just let us know when he needs to do his business, the way that she does, that would be good, too. He doesn't even have to do it outside, though if he wants to, I'm OK with that.

In spite of these differences, boys and Border Collies are alike in the ways that matter most. They both love you unconditionally. They are always excited to see you, even it's only been ten minutes since you left. They are both quick to jump up into your lap--muddy paws and all. They are great to snuggle with, even though they will steal your covers and, if you let them, most of your bed. And, in our house, at least, they've both been known to lick us in the face.

I just wish the doctors had been as considerate when B and O were born as the Vet was when we brought Bella home.

It would have been helpful if someone had told us, "Well, he's a boy. Boys are great, but there are a few things you need to know...."

What am I teaching these children?

When N was three, a typical conversation in the car went something like this:
N: Look mom! A stop sign! S-T-O-P. That spells stop. A stop sign is an octagon. Why are stop signs octagons and yield signs are triangles? Why do some roads have stop signs, and other roads have yield signs? Why do some roads have stop signs, and other signs have red lights? Why don't they have go signs?Who made the roads? Did God make the roads?

B is now three, and a typical conversation in the car goes something like this:
B: Mom! Watch where you're going! You're going to hit another trash can! (I plead the fifth). O, I'm going to smack you.

Children, obviously, are all different, and we shouldn't compare them. I am totally, 100% ok with that. But I have also been thinking about how our family's circumstances have impacted each of our children. With N, it was the three of us for three years. I didn't even work part time for most of that time. She didn't watch TV until she was two. She had my undivided attention pretty much all day, and Jimmy's pretty much all evening. Since she's been three, however, we've had B, we've had O, I started working part time, and Jimmy started his own business.

Things are different now, and while I would like to give B and O the same undivided attention I gave N, it just isn't always there to give. I know the benefits of siblings (hopefully) outweigh what may be lacking in parental attention, and I am incredibly glad they have each other. At times, though, I think back to how N was reciting poetry and performing George Thorogood songs at 3 (no, it was not I Drink Alone--we've taught her never to do that), and while I don't think either of these things are necessary (ok, and maybe not even healthy) for pre-schoolers,  I do sometimes wonder if I am teaching B, at this same age, as much as I can or should be. I'm not comparing them. I'm comparing what I am doing for each of them, and sometimes I ask myself "What am I really teaching them?" After all, isn't that my job?

I thought of this recently when I was playing Candy Land with B. At three, N loved Candy Land. A game typically went something like this:
N: Oh, good, two reds. One. Two. Oh, I'm getting closer to the lollipops. Your turn, mommy.

Candy Land with B goes something like this:
B: Move over gingerbread man. There's a train coming.
Me: Ok, B, pick a card.
B: No, mom. This is a train track.
Me:B, please don't throw the cards on the floor.
B: Can I have a snack?

Part of me knows this is an issue of personality and gender differences, and is not a result of anything I did or didn't do. Not to mention, who cares if he won't sit and play Candy Land. Another part of me, though--the mommy guilt part--wonders if I am teaching him everything I should be. I picture him being kicked out of preschool for throwing toys and not following directions. Of course, for that to happen, he would actually need to get out of diapers--something else I haven't yet been able to teach him--and be allowed into a pre-school.

At least he learns a lot from his siblings. N, for example, has taught him that, if he smacks her, she will throw a shoe at his head. Cause and effect, right? O has taught him that little brothers grow and become strong and will tackle you repeatedly at a very young age, to make up for all the times you tackled them before they could even roll over. Human growth and development, yes?

I am thinking about all of us this as we're driving the other day. I try to get him to sing along with the CD that's playing. "I don't like that song, mom". Ok, so much for that. I picture one of his future teachers looking at me with pity at a parent-teacher conference and saying, "If only he had learned "The Wheels on the Bus..."

"Hey, B! Let's say Humpty Dumpty!"  I wonder if I have taught him Humpty Dumpty. I know it's in a book we read. I know N knew it at this age.
"Humpty Dumpty Sat on the Wall. Humpty Dumpty Had a great Fall. All the kings horses......"
He says the whole thing. By himself. Yay! At least I have taught him Humpty Dumpty. Maybe I am doing ok.
"Mom?" he says
"Yes, B?" I am waiting for him to tell me something else I have taught him, or to ask about another nursery rhyme.
"Elmo taught me that. Elmo says Humpty Dumpty, too."
Oh.
I want to cry. Mommy guilt kicks in and I think that I have failed him somehow.
And then I think, I hate Elmo.

I am changing B's diaper that night (for the 6, 247th time, not that I'm counting) and he looks at me and says "Mom, I really love you. And I love Daddy, and I love N and O, too".
"You are such a nice boy," I tell him.
"That's why we're here, mom. God put us here to love each other".

I am amazed that he has actually picked something up in Church, especially considering that he is usually busy scratching his bum (our dog Bella taught him that) or offering pretend beer to those around us (Jimmy taught him that. At least he was sharing). Wow. He's actually been listening.

He is staring at me, and apparently reading my mind.
"You taught me that, mom. You said that God put us here to love each other."
Oh.
Of course I did.
That's my job.

Elmo's got nothin on me.

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