Having a boy after a whole passel’o'girls has been an education in itself. I was completely unprepared for the sheer amount of physical activity a man-child requires. When he was a toddler he ran laps around the house just for the simple joy of it. As a preschooler he was outside for hours on end, and every minute of those hours was consumed with movement: climbing, hopping, hanging, swinging, run-run-running. Somewhere around the age of five or six he started to shovel snow and pull weeds. Whenever any men were here to work on the house, he’d be right in the thick of it; lifting, toting, carting trash away in his red wagon. And now, at age eleven he’s starting to do real work.

Recently somebody gave me a copy of Created for Work by Bob Schultz, and while I haven’t had a chance to read it through yet, the introduction makes it look very promising indeed. Here’s a snippet:

In the education of boys today we’ve lost the importance of work as a most effective tutor. What is the good of knowing how to read or write if a young man doesn’t have the heart to work, to produce, and to create? Boys are often forced to sit for hours, year after year, in front of books. Modern child-labor laws hinder and even prevent them from learning to enjoy strenuous work. Then after twelve to sixteen years of inactivity, folks wonder why all their teenager wants to do is sit on the couch playing games.

A boy who loves to work will master math when it’s needed. He’ll put out the effort to read what’s important. In the meantime, his interaction with things that are “actual and practical” will provide the wisdom he needs to direct him into useful pursuits, and empower him to provide for a family of his own in days to come.

Within every man is the desire to work and produce. Some men don’t even know that it’s there. However when necessity or some pressing authority pushes him into a useful position of employment his sense of work comes alive. I’ve employed many lazy boys who couldn’t imagine work as something other than a necessary evil required to gain money for a toy. However given time and proper instruction, these lazy lads have turned into dynamos working for the simple pleasure of work, disregarding the hardships and the pay.

Like I said it looks like a worthwhile read. Heaven knows I need all the help I can get raising this all-boy-boy on my own. The kid’s growing and changing so fast sometimes it’s hard to see the boy anymore for the man breaking through…

but then again, sometimes all you can see is a little boy. O yeah.

I’ll just bet you’re wondering what’s inside this little plastic canister. You are, aren’t you? Well, I’ll tell ya…

That canister is inside this backpack, along with an official Boy Scout regulation flashlight and mess kit, a toothbrush, a jackknife, swimtrunks… you know, the essentials. Inside the duffel are the extras: shorts and extra camp tees, underwear, socks, towels. Bedlinens made by mama out of camo sweatshirt fleece fabric. And all because the boy is going to camp; Boy Scout camp; for an entire week. I admit it, I’m apprehensive.

If you have an extra moment with nothing else to do this week, would you mind offering a prayer for my boy and his week at camp? While he is a very steady, self possessed kinda kid, this is his first experience on his own for this length of time. And while the rest of the camp boys are a sweet group of kiddos, they are all public schooled and so have a different way of interacting than Noah’s usual gang of comrades.

And if you still have a free moment after you’re done praying for the kid, maybe you could pray for me too. Cuz I’m gonna need it. yeah.