“Mama,” Melissa Drake gives the boys in her tribe a safe place to fall and honest preparation for the real world. They adore her for it.
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I always wanted my house to be the “hangout” as my son was growing up. There are a couple of reasons for this. The main one being, so I could keep an eye on things and would therefore be able to keep my son as safe as possible. I also wanted to know who my son was hanging out with. No one crossed my doorstep without a full introduction, a handshake and meaningful conversation.
In the early days of elementary school when my son would have sleepovers, before the party would get started, I’d go over a list of expectations. You know, the important stuff like no boys allowed in mama’s bathroom, no peeing outside and a lecture about not letting the dogs out of the yard.
Several boys in the tribe have been with us since elementary school because we’ve lived in the same house since my son was three years old. Others joined in middle school and still more adopted me in high school and after. The comradery among all the boys has been constant though.
The thing about boys which is so different from the way I grew up, is boys can get in a terrible disagreement with one another and if/when something despicable happens, (which truly is not very often) they fight about it and it’s over. When I say fight, I mean it literally. They fist fight or wrestle with their problems. I’ve had a few emergency room trips for broken bones and split lips that required stitches from these incidents. Once the fight is over (and the ER visit is taken care of) they make up and move on. And they stand up for one another in a way that’s fierce. Girls seem more akin to back down and hold grudges forever, in my experience. If they do move on, it’s months or even years later. I’m ashamed to admit I recently made up with a friend after a disagreement that happened over 15 years ago.
Another constant at my house: the food. Food is love and we have a lot of “Mama Meals” and snacks. Nearly all of the boys have been in one or more sports with football and wrestling being the predominant athletics. Do you have any idea how much teenage boys can eat (particularly when they’re doing twice daily workouts)? One of our local stores often has chicken on sale for $1.99 a pound. When that happens, I buy 20 pounds at a time—for good reason. These boys sure can put back a lot of biscuits and gravy as well. And eggs—I cook a few dozen at a time. With a gallon of chocolate milk on the side.
As the boys got older, their activities changed a bit and things got, shall we say “dicier?” I believe in transparency and honesty always and in all ways. So, when I knew there would be drinking at a high school party, I loaded the boys up in my SUV and drove them to the party. When curfew rolled around, I picked them up, no questions asked. Then they all spent the night at my house and no one was allowed to drive home. For Christmas one year, I bought them each their own comforter and matching pillow with their names personalized on the pillows. After sleepovers, I’d make brunch the following morning. When I knew there was a potential they’d be having sex, I bought them condoms and kept the supply stocked.
The boys always knew they could come to me to talk and ask questions, that I would be there when they needed me. They still know it and I love it.
I certainly appreciated the parents that took the time to call me and meet me before their son spent time at my house. I’m nothing if not consistent, and I was just as transparent with the parents as I was with the boys. I’ll never forget the mother who told me her son “appreciated” the fact I had dug into who her child really was through my pointed questions and the fact he could be honest with me about his “not so perfect” past. She said he told her he was glad I knew the truth about what he’d been through, and he liked the fact he didn’t have to hide anything from me. I still trusted enough to give him a chance, despite what happened.
Of course I did. The truth is, none of us have a perfect past. Not me, not my son and not one of my boys—and that’s just fine. We’re human. We’re imperfect. We’re living life, learning as we go.
The best thing though—we’ve got one another. We’re Mama and The Boys.
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Photo credit: Getty Images/author
I knew right off. Seen it from the start. You’re just like my wife, an uncanny understanding (but more importantly) acceptance of boys and the way they grow up. Wife was the same way, and our house was always the place, our pool was always testosterone abundant. Wiffle ball games were like the world series, and when “the game” was on there was not a seat in the house. They called themselves “the crew”…and they still call her “Ma” to this day. We also saw it with my daughter, but not so much, not as much as the boys. They… Read more »
Thank you DJ. I love it! And you are absolutely right—on all accounts. I just said nearly those same words to someone in another group about how I love my boys even more as they get older. We get so much closer as the days go by. The conversations are more adult, more intriguing, more inspiring and more challenging (in a good way). And what’s up with the eating? They do eat WAY less. It’s crazy. I think it has a little to do with them not working out four hours a day. They do eat the leftovers though, so… Read more »