Swords and Weapons of Destruction

Before I had children, I vowed to never allow my child to be one that wields a gun, knife or sword.  My children were going to be sweet, non-violent, soft and sensitive beings choosing their words over weapons.  They were going to be the first siblings to get along famously and never physically fight.

Boy was I wrong.

Having 3 boys you quickly realize that as hard as you try to protect your children from the influences of the outside world, you just can't skip this one important part... they will notice weapons.

At ripe young ages of 1 and 2, my boys were fashioning weapons from vaccuum cleaner parts, sticks, coat hangers, hockey sticks, lego, straws... you name it.  Noises like "pew, pew, pew" and "ratatatatat" come first before words.  Without even really noticing it happen, they turn into little soldiers looking for every reason to fire off that pretend gun.

It's really beyond me where the attraction begins, and while I realize I can't keep them from pretending to play that roll, I certainly try to minimize it.  My abnormal fear of guns means swords are the only pre-constructed weapon that will enter my house.  Typically a sword lasts an hour maximum before it's removed from little hands. Self control is not a strong suite of those under 5, and the weapons seem to increase in contact until someone gets hurt.

Recently, Graysen began to have problems falling asleep at night.  His imagination would run rampant in the dark, and his fears would explode.  Frightened out of his mind, it would take us hours to get him to sleep.  No amount of special blankies or stuffies resolved the fear or provided comfort. 

I turned to the handy, dandy internet to do some reading on the subject, and as it turns out, I was doing it all wrong.  

I was attempting to dispel any myths of monsters, dragons, and "bad guys".  I peered into every nook and cranny of his room, explaining every shadow possible.  While I thought it would prove to him that those common items in his room were merely that, all that I did was blur the lines of reality and fiction, deeply embedding that seed of fear.

What I really needed to do was give him a sword.  

I needed to indulge his imagination and curtail the outcome to be one where he came out the hero rather than the victim.

When I think of threatening or emerging dangers, I run.  With the exception of when my children are endangered, I am wholeheartedly a flight kind of gal, seeking refuge under blankets or hiding behind something bigger than I.  Frighten me, and I will scream, drop to the floor, and curl up in a little ball (don't anyone test this theory!).  As a child I would have taken a blanket that made you invisible over a sword any day.  I realize now that Graysen and I are very different that way.  If a threat approaches him, he wants to take it on.  He wants to defend himself, beat the "bad guys" and conquer his domain.  For a kid that talks a mile a minute, he doesn't see words as a defence, and he most certainly does not see flight as an option.  He may be a soft and sweet boy, but he's most definitely not going to sit back and not stick up for himself.  

Sometimes I feel like parenting is one big sociological experiment and every decision you make can influence the rest of their lives... Other times, I think no matter what a person does, there's very little you can do to influence how these little people are going to turn out.  This is one of those times.

Right now, I feel like I could learn a little something from Graysen.  I could use a little courage to turn and face my demons... fight my battles without always dodging and running.  I'm proud that my little man is strong enough to stand up for himself, and well - if a sword is going to keep that confidence in him, then he can have it.

As long as it stays in his bed ;)