Four years ago I was the mother of an enthusiastic Tiger Cub Scout.
Four years ago Monday nights were the highlight of his week.
Four years ago I volunteered to help our cub scout leader so we could continue meeting.
Four years ago the helper became the leader.
Four years ago I thought I would just finish out the school year until they could find someone else.
Four years ago it was a duty, an obligation so my son could go to the meetings he enjoyed so much.
Today it is a joy.
And I am still the mother of an enthusiastic Cub Scout.
Just a little nostalgic right now. Last night was the Arrow of Light ceremony for the oldest Cub in our den. Before the ceremony we worked on our last project together as The Three Musketeers. If I think about it very much, I just might cry.
When I took on the challenge of leading little boys, I didn't think I would like it. I am more into arts and crafts than sports, more into sewing than leatherwork, more into reading than chemistry, more into Mozart than "Shark Attack."
I thought I enjoyed girl talk more than jokes about body chemistry. I thought girlish giggles topped fist pumps. I thought little girl hugs were sweeter than high fives.
But I was wrong.
Four years ago Monday nights were the highlight of his week.
Four years ago I volunteered to help our cub scout leader so we could continue meeting.
Four years ago the helper became the leader.
Four years ago I thought I would just finish out the school year until they could find someone else.
Four years ago it was a duty, an obligation so my son could go to the meetings he enjoyed so much.
Today it is a joy.
And I am still the mother of an enthusiastic Cub Scout.
Just a little nostalgic right now. Last night was the Arrow of Light ceremony for the oldest Cub in our den. Before the ceremony we worked on our last project together as The Three Musketeers. If I think about it very much, I just might cry.
When I took on the challenge of leading little boys, I didn't think I would like it. I am more into arts and crafts than sports, more into sewing than leatherwork, more into reading than chemistry, more into Mozart than "Shark Attack."
I thought I enjoyed girl talk more than jokes about body chemistry. I thought girlish giggles topped fist pumps. I thought little girl hugs were sweeter than high fives.
But I was wrong.
In the last few years, I have learned to appreciate sports (a little bit, anyway), to let boys run and wrestle (preferably outdoors), and to laugh at their jokes (or at least smile).
I have learned not to get *too* mushy with them, although there are times when I just want to squeeze their little cheeks or grab them and give them a big hug. I have learned not to talk "at" them too much but to ask them questions and let them talk. I have learned that a snack at the end of the evening is pretty much a requirement.
I still roll my eyes at their corny jokes. I still flinch when they do a face plant on the floor. I still wonder how in the world they can eat that much. In short, I am still amazed at how different they are from little girls.
My little boys are turning into little men. Sometimes even little gentlemen. (I really like this part!) And they need to be with older guys. They need to see older Boy Scouts leading and learning. And they need to learn to lead.
And so, too soon, I will watch as the rest of "my" boys step into the ceremonial teepee, trade their blue uniform shirts for khaki uniform shirts and cross over into Boy Scouts.
I have learned not to get *too* mushy with them, although there are times when I just want to squeeze their little cheeks or grab them and give them a big hug. I have learned not to talk "at" them too much but to ask them questions and let them talk. I have learned that a snack at the end of the evening is pretty much a requirement.
I still roll my eyes at their corny jokes. I still flinch when they do a face plant on the floor. I still wonder how in the world they can eat that much. In short, I am still amazed at how different they are from little girls.
My little boys are turning into little men. Sometimes even little gentlemen. (I really like this part!) And they need to be with older guys. They need to see older Boy Scouts leading and learning. And they need to learn to lead.
And so, too soon, I will watch as the rest of "my" boys step into the ceremonial teepee, trade their blue uniform shirts for khaki uniform shirts and cross over into Boy Scouts.
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