Why I Let my Little Boy have Weapons (part one)

I did. I think you should, too. Really.

Now, before you go ballistic on me, let me tell you how it came about. Even before I had children, I can remember getting into “animated discussions” about having weapons in the house. I was dead set against it. After much debate, I ceded that weapons themselves were not the problem, but children having access to them was the problem and insisted that all guns must have trigger locks.

I saw myself as imminently enlightened.

Then I had a little boy. He was pretty much ALL boy.  Puddles drew his immediate attention. Puppies and kitties were awesome. All dogs were our friends. Dirt was ok. Mud was not. Pushing trucks and throwing balls consumed his thoughts. Building blocks were stacked as high as possible so we could knock them over. This was all when he was a toddler. I was maritally separated by that point, by some 4,500 miles. What I said was law, was law. Weapons were not in our little world.

A friend (who understood my stance against weapons, even if she didn’t necessarily agree with it), suggested that my little boy needed role models. It made sense to me. In the absence of a father figure, he needed someone to help him understand how not to be girlish. *wink* Enter Rescue Heroes. These heroes helped people without the use of weapons. I got completely behind this idea. I still think they are awesome toys and role models. He was Billy Blazes (a Rescue Heroes fireman) for his fourth Halloween.

Rescue Heroes on a mission and spilling out of the bonus room...

Rescue Heroes on a mission and spilling out of the bonus room…

Holding his baby sister while wearing his Rescue Hero Jammies.

Holding his baby sister while wearing his Rescue Hero Jammies.

After his father and I decided to try again, we moved back in together a few weeks after our son’s third birthday. That’s when I began to notice that even though I shielded him to the best of my ablility, he was turning things into weapons. I closely monitored every input, every television show, but I got quite sick right after we combined our households again and couldn’t monitor him every minute. His dad started showing him things I would never have shown him at the age of three. Suddenly Legos became guns and swords. Sticks were swords. The lids to plastic bins were shields. I was not happy. Yes, as a veteran, I can field strip an M-16 in under a minute, but I didn’t want my little boy playing with weapons. Period. However, since I was no longer alone in parenting, I had to learn to compromise. It was not easy.

 

Tune in next time to find out where this all ended up… and how I didn’t just “go along” with my son’s father, but actually came to understand…

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4 thoughts on “Why I Let my Little Boy have Weapons (part one)

  1. Pingback: Why I Let my Little Boy have Weapons (conclusion) | loving the mom life

  2. Pingback: Why I Let my Little Boy have Weapons (part two) | loving the mom life

  3. I had to do some serious searching to find the photos. They are ten years old, after all!

    I intended this to be a short post, but it kind of got away from me…
    Tune in later for the continuing saga…

    Like

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