Colleen Kessler - Fearless Empathy: The Boy Moms Guide to Raising Emotionally Intelligent Sons

To Trevor and Isaacmy strong, confident, and resilient sons.

To Molly and Loganmy strong, confident, and resilient daughters.

To Brianmy support and partner in this adventure of building an emotionally intelligent family.

The spirit is there in every boy; it has to be discovered and brought to life.

Robert Baden-Powell

I couldnt wait to be a boy mom.

Dont misunderstand me. I love my girls with all my heart, but when I dreamed of having that first baby, I wanted a boy. I imagined mommy-son snuggles, dirty feet, wide-eyed adoration, and all the stereotypical things that went along with being part of the boy mom tribe.

I envisioned a big brother to his younger siblings, standing up to any injustices. That whole I can tease and pick on them all I want, but watch out to anyone else who tries that! idea of a protector, teaser, prankster, cuddler, and all-around leader of the pack of small beings I was bound to be blessed with.

My boys would be sensitive and smart. They wouldnt be too rough. I wasnt going to conform to the stereotypes and only buy the boyish toys. No guns and swords and weapons, eitheroh no! My boys wouldnt be violent. Theyd be calm and creative, fun and loving, embodying the best of the rough-and-tumble boy life, but with a soft side. I would give them trucks and cars to play with, and baby dolls to love. My sons would learn to nurture and protect while being rugged and industrious.

Are you laughing at Past Me yet?

There are so many books and articles that caution young moms about raising overly masculine and aggressive boys. They implore parents to teach their sons to be calmer, quieter, and more compliant than the impulsive boys who yank pigtailsthose who fall under the boys will be boys stereotype.

I tried being that enlightened mom with my firstborn. I rocked him and cuddled him and read him sweet stories. Hed take them in, snuggle back, and then grab fistfuls of the dogs fur as she passed. He was a fitful sleeper and destroyer of all block towers in his path.

Ill never forget sitting at a coffee shop with some of my work friends. Wed formed a prayer group of sorts, where we read books about faith, parenting, mothering, or being a woman, and wed meet once a week to discuss the next chapter, talk about being new moms, and care for each other. Two of my friends sweet little girls are the same age as my eighteen-month-old little boy. Those toddler girls sat in the wooden restaurant high chairs with their coloring, crafts, neatly cut-up snacks, and sippy cups while their mamas chatted at the table.

My toddler boy drove cars beneath the table around our feet, crashing them together and making sound effects, his coloring books forgotten or used as tunnels and ramps. He wove in and out of the tables in our little deserted section of the coffee shop, discarding the coloring sheet I tried giving him. He pulled away as I tried to wipe the smeared icing off his face, then crashed, eye first, into the corner of the table next to us, letting out a wail that could be heard two cities away.

That little boy did not want to sit and color. He never stopped moving. He didnt gravitate toward the stuffed animals, games, and sorting toys I had strategically placed around our home. Well, unless it was to topple things, wrestle with the stuffed animals, or fashion the sorting toys into weapons to protect me from invaders. He was my knight in armor, ready to defend my life and my honor at a moments notice.

He climbed, jumped, grabbed, and investigated the most dangerous things he could possibly find. If I turned my back for a minute, hed be gone. The day after that embarrassing coffee date I mentioned, I was cleaning up some toys in the family room, where he was bouncing up and down to the music from a Baby Einstein video. I dragged the box down the hallway to the back room in our tiny 1,100-square-foot house and came back minutes later to an empty family room, music still playing.

I looked under furniture and behind plants, then heard water running upstairs in our only bathroom with a tub. I ran up the narrow, steep stairs of our little 1850s farmhouse to find him standing in the tub, diaper and shorts in a soggy heap on the bathroom floor, his onesie dangling and dripping, half on and half off. His black eye was glistening as water droplets sprayed his face from the detachable shower head he pointed at himself.

Using what hed learned from Baby Signs, he signed water and grinned proudly. I sighed and helped him take his onesie the rest of the way off and sat on the closed toilet seat, breathing slowly while he occupied himself in the shower for a few minutes before, inevitably, he was off again.

Dr. Leonard Sax, author of Why Gender Matters, explains that despite our planning and plotting, boys and girls will always be different, and parents, teachers, and caregivers would do well to learn about those differences so they can help kids reach their full potential. One of our biggest challenges as parents is figuring out what those differences are, seeing how they apply to our own sons, and then using that knowledge to be the amazing parents we are meant to be.

In his book, Dr. Sax shares how some of the things we typically associate with boysdistraction, hyperactivity, impulsivity, physical aggressionare actually misunderstood pieces of their biology that, when properly addressed, can help us unlock their potential.

Dr. Michael C. Reichert, author of How to Raise a Boy, tells us that most parenting books send messages about boys that fall into two camps: (1) that boys are biologically driven to rambunctious play, aggression, and risk-taking or (2) that they are innocent victims of social oppression, playing into our preconceived gendered norms. Whats missing from these discussions, Dr. Reichert goes on to say, is that lovely, imaginative, and inspiring part played by a boys dreams, goals, nature, and psychology. Who theyre meant to be. What theyre born for.

Our boys are neither victims of biology nor the social ecology. But they have gotten the short end of the stick for too long. Theyre different, and thats okay. Its meant to be. Its our job, mamas, to help them harness their energy and grow in strength and empathy too.

As a boy mom today, I worry for my sons. I worry that theyre being discriminated against for how theyre biologically and neurologically wired. That theyre mistrusted just because theyre male. Thats not fair or right. We need to fight back, boy moms. We need to stand up for our sons now, and be proud of all that comes along with being boy moms. We can help our boys grow up to be men of integrity, compassion, confidence, and fairness. We can nurture their emotional intelligence so they can truly understand another persons perspective, think critically, and stand up for what is right. And we can equip them to be strong enough to bounce back from trauma, displaying a lifelong resiliency that will help them be amazing friends, spouses, and fathers in their own time.

In an article entitled What Happened After My 13-Year-Old Son Joined the Alt-Right, published in the Washingtonian in 2019, the author described a dark spiral her young teen took after a girl at school made what she later admitted was a false sexual harassment claim against him. He felt lost and let down by the administrator and guidance counselor, who were supposed to be there for him. The story ends with her son coming out of that dark time, but not before being exposed to a kind of underbelly in cyberspace and a loss of the innocence hed had before that accusation. Scary stuff, mamas.