Party, Party, Party!

Posted: September 24, 2010 in Aengus, Noah, Parenting
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We’ve had a relatively uneventful week around here.

Last weekend was all about sleepovers and parties: I went to a baby shower — I haven’t been to one of those in ages! My friend found out on her fortieth birthday that the birth control she and her husband had used all through their marriage failed. Her kids are eleven and thirteen; she was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Part of me is jealous of her: it would be nice to have a baby now, now that I know a bit more of what I’m doing. But I also know the reality of parenting; as easy as Aengus was, I still don’t think I’s want to go through all that again. Although, I loved being pregnant and would totally do that part of it again in a heartbeat; I’ve even tried over the years to talk Jason into me being a surrogate. That’s when his Catholic upbringing reared its ugly head.

I’m happy for my friend. She’s an amazingly kind and gentle person, and her kids are lucky to have her. All three of them. But I’m glad it’s her and not me.

Also last weekend, Noah got to spend time with his girlfriend for her seventeenth birthday. They went to dinner, saw a magician, raised hell at Books-A-Million, and saw Inception. Then Noah went to his buddy’s house to play video games, eat junk food, and shoot Mountain Dew with the guys two nights in a row (double sleepovers FTW).

Aengus went to a laser tag party for a new friend one night, then slept over after his bff’s birthday party the next night. And on his way home from James’s house, he convinced me to stop by WallyWorld . . . where he bought a gun. (>.<) It’s just a BB gun, and he already has two rifles, but this one is different somehow. It’s a handgun, and he just sits around and looks at it. Caresses it. Times himself taking it apart and putting it back together. I think he loves it the same way Noah loves his guitars.

I am in distress.

I can’t deny that he is who he is and has interests of his own, completely outside of my influence. And we’ve known since he was six months old and wielded anything he could like a sword that he has an unusual interest in weapons. I also know that my kids have a particular sensitivity to forbidden-fruit syndrome, so I believe in my head that I need to just keep my mouth shut (other than stressing safety) and let him be who he is.

But this obsession with guns is way beyond my comfort level. Those who knew me when Noah was young know how adamantly opposed to violence in any form I was. Noah wasn’t even allowed to shape his fingers into pretend guns or play “fighting” with his friends. I’ve become a very different person, and Aengus has had a different childhood than Noah had. He plays the violent video games and runs around “shooting” his friends. My consolation has been that his enjoyment of violence never extended into real life. In real life, he flips out when I kill a bug and is disturbed by the plight of animals at the hands of humans.

But he really, really likes guns. I am disturbed, but I can’t find any logical reason for this to bother me. It’s just my instinctive, knee-jerk reaction. And that’s not a good place to parent from, so I’m biting my tongue.

But if he signs up for sniper school, I’ll put my foot down.

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