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Thursday, April 06, 2006Hair CheckThis morning, Jonathan plopped onto the upholstered chair with his cup of coffee, like he usually does. "Oh, I've got goosebumps," he said, rubbing his leg lightly. "They're making my hairs all stand up." I smiled. "Hairy man legs, huh?" Because, naturally, the comment wasn't really about the goosebumps; it was about the thickening hair on my not-quite-fourteen-year-old's legs. "Yeah," came the pleased-sounding, almost-tenor-but-sometimes-still-cracking-alto voice. "What about your pits? Any hair under there yet?" "Not a whole lot, but it's getting darker." "Cool." (Is armpit hair cool? I guess it is if you're a thirteen-year-old male.) "Yeah." "How 'bout your chest? Anything there?" "No, nothing there yet." He gestured vaguely toward his chest. "But that doesn't usually come in until later, right?" "Well, yeah," I said, as though I were the world's premiere expert on emerging body hair. "Especially when you're a late bloomer." We didn't get into the hair growing on -- other parts. I had already been made aware, admist great fanfare, of said hair when it first emerged. I didn't want to go there again this morning. So there you have it. I spent a portion of my coffee time discussing the visible attributes of male puberty with my son. And I watched my boy/man grow about four inches while we spoke, filled up as he was with the headiness and confidence and "this is pretty awesome"-ness of slowly becoming a man. Hair or no hair, I love the poop out of him. It's an honor, really, to talk about these things with him. After all, he must feel pretty comfortable with me to bring it up at all...right? Right. He knows his mom doesn't have any hang-ups. Well, okay -- he knows his mom doesn't have many hang-ups. At least, she doesn't have any hang-ups about body hair. Why, I wore capris the other day without having shaved my legs the night before. I spent an entire, hairy day without once feeling like I had to run upstairs and grab the nearest Daisy. Guess that means I'm turning into an old fart. Oh, well. I can be happy in old-fartdom, so long as I have the continued joy of my children's trust and affection. That, and an occasional glass of an excellent California wine. And a few razors....just in case. |
About Me
I am: Mother to five stunningly individualistic children... Writer of young adult fantasy... Passionate advocate for Women At Home... Madly in love with my husband... In need of Organic Gourmet Chocolate on a regular basis. I've got a Paypal account if you'd like to contribute to the cause....
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9of my readers are feeling chatty:
I have yet to put on capris because of my hair legs. Also, I need a pedicure. So, give me another week until capri season please! like your blog!
Tell Jonathan that Grandad is still waiting for his chest hairs to sprout;o)
That is great that you and your son could talk like that. I only have daughters so I don't have to worry about the future of doing aswell as you are that kinda thing.
Although my husband going shopping with our daughter for her first bra was interesting..LOL
Hmm, I don't think it's old fartdom, I think it has something to do with that French woman diet you've been following. Just don't write about the first time you lift your arms in public wearing a strappy tank.. pretty please. 0;)
I wrote a poem just for you!
I once took a dump
Afterwords I fell into a slump
I forgot to flush
because I was in a rush
The smell was funny
Everyones nose was all runny
Mr. Morris
Ask Morris
I love those talks! I love that Jonathan is so eager to share such things with you!
My boys do the same, There are days when I wonder why I encouraged them to be open with me but I never let them know that LOL
Mommy on the verge -- a pedicure? If I waited for that, I'd never take off my winter shoes. Not ever!
Jamie -- LOLOL!
Jaws -- You mean you're not going to tell the bra story??
Kerrie -- Never fear, my Frenchdom is restricted to my eating habits. I shave my pits religiously; even in the dead of winter.
Morris -- Ummm....
Doris -- I was actually thinking of you and your boys when I wrote this.
Hold onto the conversations - they get really scarce when they get older - let's say around 20/21...*sigh*
Gary is almost 11. So much to look forward to. His mother would feint over a puberty conversation.
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