When the flock gets flack...

In most cases the males of the species are more bold, aggressive, assertive, risk-taking, and defensive than their female counterparts. Our flock is a little different. My husband tends to be more laid back; less boot-stomping, more shoulder shrugging. I am the aggressive, assertive, oh-no-you-didn't, decisive, and determined one. Our arrangement works out well for us. I get riled, he's calm and steady. Most of the time, I'm content with all of this.

Sometimes, though... Sometimes being defensive and surly is surely a burden to bear.

My son came home from his first week of school with more than a few stories. Most revolved around his excitement over new friends, painting, and play time. One story, however, was different. It seems a boy in his class has been pushing other kids, swinging his backpack at them, poking and pinching them, and generally making a nuisance of himself. Worse though, this boy has been telling my son, "I'm better than you. You're no good, and I'm better than you."

Oh yeah? Oh really? Really?!

It was around this part of the story that I had to stop and remind myself that kicking kindergarten children was probably frowned upon.

But how infuriating! It's even worse that there's nothing I can really do about it. I've advised him to try to talk to the boy, and if that doesn't work, to speak with his teacher. But that doesn't mean I don't want to tell this snot-nosed, poorly mannered kindergartener to meet me at the flagpole at 3 o'clock to settle this. Pick on my baby, will you?! Oh.No.You.Didn't.

I'm guessing this is one of those important lessons in parenting. We've all heard the phrase, "Pick your battles." Usually the emphasis is on 'pick'. As in, don't put your foot down about everything. Give them some leeway to make their own choices and mistakes. Allow them to win some small squabbles so they learn to negotiate. All that good stuff.

But in this new variety of "Pick your battles" the emphasis is on "your". And that's tough. Some battles are going to be his, and his alone. More and more my little gent is going to have to learn to navigate the twisting trail of human interaction on his own. Even though I can't defend him in a primal, hackles-raised, don't-harm-my-young-or-I'll-bite-your-face-off kind of fashion, I'm a mother and therefore never helpless.

I can serve as a compass by showing him the right and wrong way of handling conflicts, defending your stance and your opinion, accepting the opinions of others', and remaining bold in the face of adversity. I can act as the navigator by suggesting how to talk things out, who to seek out if talking isn't sufficient, and how to protect himself. I can model proper conflict resolution and help teach him to be a self-sufficient and proud young man.

Which means I can't punt children. Not even a little bit. Even if I want to.