I am raising someone’s husband

For a long time, my belief has been that all children should be raised the same way, with disregard to socialisation.

After raising two daughters, we were blessed with a son a year ago. From day one, heck, from the day he was in the womb, something about him was different. For starters, my tummy extended beyond human imagination.

Three weeks before his arrival, my walking had been reduced to waddling. I felt as if I was carrying a grown man in there.

His suckling was more urgent and frequent, and unlike his sisters, who would get their fill quickly and be content, he was always hungry and would howl loudly, even at the slightest hint of hunger.

He did not seem to care if you forgot to change his diaper as long as he was full. Oh, and if I did not get him off the breast, he would feed until he threw up! I had to take gallons of water to keep up with the demand.

UNECCESSARY DETAILS

While his sisters had been more particular and fussy about other comforts, like diaper change or too much heat, this boy behaved as if he had not eaten or drunk a thing in days - all those other comforts were unnecessary details.

We are learning that yes, indeed, every child is unique, and that raising boys and girls requires different approaches.

During an outing with extended family the other day, one of our cousins was playing with his kids. Their son was particularly thrilled when his dad threw him up in the air, caught him, then swirled him around and threw him back up in the air.

“You know I don’t like that game - what if he falls?” his wife admonished him. The boys in her clan gave a collective groan before giving up the game.

My children think I am super boring when it comes to game choices. I will collect the riddles and jokes and the ‘knock knock who is there’ kind of games, but their dad comes up with what I call the ‘physical games’, the dangerous ones, and yet he gets the thumbs up.

What is interesting though, is that the rougher the games, the more thrilled our son seems. If I did not sit there stern-faced, that boy would climb on the seats or on anything above ground level and attempt a somersault onto the tiled floor.

I watched one of Caroline Mutoko’s YouTube videos about the boy-child crisis. In one of the series, she mentions a friend who asks;

“Have you raised me a husband?” This was in response to a woman who asked Caroline’s friend why she was not married.

It occurred to me that I am indeed raising someone’s husband. And I have to raise him to be the kind of man worthy of marrying someone’s daughter.

The kind of husband a woman will be proud to honour. I may not know what it is like to be a man, but I can teach him how to treat a woman. He is learning that he cannot pull his sister’s hair just to get a screech out of her.

I would like him to channel all that male stamina or whatever it is, to honourable outcomes. He is more action-oriented than verbal, so, I will teach him to express his emotions verbally, without punching anyone.

I will let his dad teach him the manly things, because I know every girl wants a husband who is sensitive, gentle, loving, yet one who is still manly.

I will let our son spend countless hours washing the car with his dad, without much talk between them. (I know, weird, right?).

This man I am raising needs to learn the responsibility of being a husband. I will also teach him to do the dishes and the laundry as well, though I might skip the shopping bit.