One thing that they don't tell you in child rearing classes is the unwritten rule among boys that fighting is cool. It's been high on my list to teach my children love for all. Love for your fellow human, love for animals, love simply makes the world go 'round. So 6 years ago when I found my oldest was biking a block away to wait for an older boy to get home from school so they could fight I was dumbfounded.
Wrastle. I think that's how Steve and his buddies referred to it. Wrestle, wrastle, whatever it's called boys just seem to have it in them to do it. It's the hunter gatherer, the fighter, defender. As young as kindergarten I remember the boys on the trampoline rolling around trying to pin the other one.
We actually left a home school play group over this. The boys would always pick up sticks and run around at the park defending someone or some cause, sword fighting one another, trees and anything that they felt needed a good smack. This behavior prompted a few of the other moms to ask me to please not have my boys play with sticks at the park anymore. Needless to say that was years ago and we now meet at the park with families that have
So back to the fighting. I do not condone it. I say love one another, turn the other check, treat others as you wish to be treated. So a few weeks ago when Justin returned from a birthday party, what to my wandering eyes did I see? A black eye. Yep, he got in his first fight and pop he took one to the eye. Not a massive shiner by any means but a black eye nonetheless.
It's his left eye.
Fuzzy close-up. Each day he looked in the mirror, hoping it was still there. The importance of people noticing this new beauty mark was big for him
So while we're outside the dog and cat started messin' with one another and I had to snap a pic. We have 2 cats that like the dog and will play with him. They hide as he runs by, they chase him; he turns and chases them until they stop in some tall grass and hide waiting for his run by.
Here's Fluff with our cat Lolli a.k.a. Pooper Scooper (don't ask)
And of course our Frisbee dog. I also have to say that when this dog goes disc golfing with us he knows what frisbee is his and which is ours- good boy!
PS the boy Justin fought with is a friend of his since kindergarten. Justin asked him to stop throwing sticks at him, he didn't, Justin then went right after him on the attack. They are still buddies, "just a friendly fight" was the response I got.