Tag Archive | Men

The Heart of a Man or Dear Women . . .

Now I must speak to the heart of a woman. The heart that loves, gives and longs to be cradled. The heart that would gladly beat for another if it would save them. The very heart that needs while focusing on the needs of others. The heart that beats, the heart that breaks. The heart filled with love for the man she’s promised her lifelong devotion to.

Women carry many burdens often too heavy for them to bear. We must be strong when we feel weak. We must sacrifice and we must never give in to the desperation sometimes filling us with doubt. We look to the men we love to pick us up when we fall, we cannot understand why they sometimes don’t seem to see our plight, they don’t seem to see our need.

Men often carry their burdens alone, never reaching out for assistance. They live with the pressures of providing food and shelter and clothing to the family they’ve promised to care for. They think of the future while their todays become yesterdays. They forge ahead to maintain the life they’ve made for the ones they love.

We can sometimes take their efforts for granted, they need to know we value them, we appreciate all they provide. Just as we long to be recognized when we put all we are into caring for our family, they too need to know we notice just how much of themselves they give to do the same.

Men sometimes seem to live on a different plane of existence than we do, their feet touch the ground when they walk. Their vision doesn’t always exceed past what their eyes alone can see. They were brought up to be strong, analytical and grounded. Society told them they shouldn’t give in to emotions or exhibit too much tenderness.

As women, we see with so much more than sight, we envision things with emotion and can be easily frustrated when the men we love do not. Where we are feeling, they are often thinking. They express themselves in their own way, just as we do, the differences need to be recognized. Sometimes when we don’t see an emotional reaction we feel slighted, just look into their eyes and you will find what you’re looking for.

Compassion doesn’t always come easy to some, the world has deemed too much compassion in a man a weakness and men are not supposed to be weak. They’re the breadwinners, the kings of the castle. Young boys are too often given the message tears are for girls and sissies, fear is unacceptable and expression of deep feelings are best restrained.

Societal roles for men are ingrained in the culture in which they are raised, the roots of these expected roles run deep and are difficult to escape. The antiquated ideals of what a man should be and how he should behave are inherited from one generation to the next.

Mothers and fathers of sons can contribute to these notions or try to combat them, but sometimes the world at large has a louder voice. Girls are encouraged to use their imagination, they’re called creative while a young boy is called a dreamer. Girls are taught to talk about what is in their hearts, it’s a sign of maturity. Boys are told to grow up and be a man.

Little girls are encouraged to cry when they’re sad, outwardly express joy and happiness. Little boys are told to suck it up when the world causes them pain, they’re expected to maintain restraint when they feel joy.

As young children, girls are given praise and accolades for a job well done while so many boys are simply given a pat on the back. They grow to be men who don’t know how to react to sincere praise and consequently have a difficult time giving it. As parents, we need to model what we want our children to become.

It’s no wonder so many men and women can look upon the same thing and each see something the other cannot. Not all men are ignoring our tender hearts, they may have never been taught how to care for them. They may not have been told a woman needs to be wrapped in the warmth of their love. They didn’t learn communication is the key to a life of fulfillment.

As women we must try to look past the man and see the little boy inside who thinks and feels and dreams. The little boy who longs to release the long bottled up emotions he carries within, the carefree spirit that wants to laugh and create, but is afraid.

We tend to take it personally when the man we love comes home and doesn’t seem interested in our day, when his brow is furrowed we take offense when it may simply be he had a difficult day and needs to decompress. He needs to be given that opportunity, we need to remember it isn’t always about us.

There may very well always be this distance between a man and a woman, we need to nurture the little boy within, understand his fear and his need to stay hidden. We need to know even though he may not always show his love in the ways we wish, he would not be by our side if he didn’t feel all the things he may be yet unable to show.

There are men in this world who are not bound by these manmade chains restraining their inner selves. These men are examples to which other men should aspire. To the women who have been blessed with these precious few, thank God for them and be certain they know just how thankful you truly are to have them in your life.

One of the most fragile and precious things a woman may ever hold is the heart of a man . . .

Boys, boys, boy-oh-boy, boys!

Jun29

If you have men of any age in your house, or plan on having them in the future, I encourage you to read this, perhaps study it, maybe even commit small morsels of it to memory. If after you have pondered it, you still decide to have creatures of the opposite sex in your home, you will at least know, in some small detail, what to expect. Those of you already residing with members of the Geneous Manus Species, you will understand and can add in your own chapter or two. As a matter of fact, start your own book, help others in need.

** DISCLAIMER – I totally made that up. Geneous Manus is in no way intended to be considered an actual scientific term, any similarity to the word genius should be ignored. **

Let me preface this little essay of mine by saying I have nothing against men. I love the men in my life. Sometimes though, they perplex me. They seem to live right on the borders of common sense, logic and deductive reasoning. They almost get it, but just can’t seem to grasp it. It’s like watching a dog trying to lap up the last drink out of a tall glass. It’s sort of sad, yet funny at the same time.

I live with four male humans. They vary in age. The youngest of my boys at present time is eighteen, and the oldest is approaching forty-seven with reluctance. Sometimes, there is not much difference between them.

** DISCLAIMER – I do not claim to actually have a forty-five year old child. The eldest of this all male quartet I sarcastically refer to as one of the boys, would be the aforementioned children’s father. **

I always wanted a son. I prayed and prayed for a baby boy when I found out I would be blessed with new life. My prayers where answered when they placed my precious little man in my arms. It wasn’t long after that beautiful moment that he peed all over me for the first time. I soon found out baby boys pee on their mothers often. As soon as you wise up and figure out how to shield yourself, they begin to master projectile vomiting.

I’ll never forget the first time I witnessed this phenomena. I placed my sleepy eyed prince in his crib and stood there, gazing upon my precious babe with all the awe of a new mother, when suddenly this massive geyser opened up and before I could so much as shield my eyes I was dripping with the sweet mother’s milk I’d lovingly fed to him only moments before. I was horrified and more than a little worried because the amount of ooze that shot out of his tiny little mouth was in no way proportionate to the amount of milk I knew he’d ingested. I’d never seen anything like it. Well, maybe once in a movie, but I thought that was just Hollywood magic. If projectile vomiting had been an Olympic sport he would have medaled. I was totally unprepared to see my infant child play out a scene from the Exorcist.

** DISCLAIMER – I have never actually seen the movie referred to in the previous sentence, I have taken the liberty of using it as an example because I could not think of anything more original. **

The mystery of a young boy’s bodily functions may never be solved. I don’t think anyone is even trying to figure them out. Thank goodness they outgrow it. No, that’s a lie. I just lied to you. They do not outgrow it, they perfect it. It’s not long before they are no longer content to pee on you, the parent, they often choose to pee anywhere and everywhere. When they graduate from diapers to big boy pants their target of choice is the toilet seat, the wall behind the toilet or the floor around it and sometimes the dog.

** DISCLAIMER – It was my neighbor’s kid that sullied the dog. The only living things my boys have ever peed on where my husband and I. Oh, and one time one of them tinkled on the neighbor kid **

**** DISCLAIMER TO DISCLAIMER – I made that up as well. My boys never tinkled on the neighbor kid. It was his word against theirs . . . I just made that up too. None of it happened. My kids never did anything like that. I am becoming such a liar. ****

Anyway, by the time I’d potty trained my third son I’d logged more hours scrubbing down toilets and bathroom floors than a prisoner serving a life sentence. I just can’t understand it. God made it easy for them; all they have to do is point and shoot right? How hard can it be to aim?

I actually learned a valuable lesson from my youngest son one afternoon. He was four, he’d been in the bathroom for quite some time and since that always fills me with a sense of dread, I opened the door to find out what he was doing when he didn’t answer. He was peeing. I should have closed the door, I didn’t. I opened my big mouth and asked him why he’d been in there so long.

Here is the lesson I learned; do not question a young boy while he is peeing. Why? Because some of them cannot simply turn their head to look at you, they must turn their whole body. Needless to say, I had to sterilize my feet and throw out my socks.

They also begin to find humor in the various substances and sounds they emit. I will not even take the time to cover this topic. There are very few ways to delicately explain the male rituals that take place concerning these things. Let’s just say the females in the household are made to listen, smell and hear about them on a regular basis.

** DISCLAIMER – Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, girls do it too. Whatever, I’m harping on the boy children, girls are in the next chapter.**

The male gender does not always seem to understand the necessity of clean clothing. If allowed, they will wear the same socks for a week. Pants and shirts absent of obvious stains and emit low odor vapors are still acceptable to them. They do not feel holes, tears or loose hems are of any consequence. They will wear torn jeans that show off their skivvies and consider the undergarment as simply a patch covering the hole from the inside.

The male (Geneous Manus) eating ritual is another thing that’s boggled the minds of mothers and wives everywhere. Many of them will fill their mouths so they have food stored in either cheek while they attempt chew what is stuck in the middle. Once that is gone, they will enjoy the food from one cheek and then the other. They will fill their forks and spoons with so much food they have to open their mouths wider than looks humanly possible to stuff it in. They will eat food left out overnight, they believe wholeheartedly in the “five second rule” and they will continue to eat well after they are full if there is still food on the table. They will eat cereal out of mixing bowls with a soup ladle if the appropriate dishes are not clean.

When they begin to mature and care more about their appearance they will use deodorant beneath a less than fresh shirt. They will trim their fingernails and toenails, leaving the clippings wherever they may fall, and they will wipe the crumbs from their shirt before leaving the table. Again, leaving them where they fall.

** DISCLAIMER – While there is no actual scientific evidence that men mature, I have personally chosen to believe it can happen. It gives me some hope to cling to.**

Both the young and the old alike will leave their shoes anywhere it is certain a woman will trip over them. When they finally decide a garment is no longer wearable they will deposit it on the floor just a few feet away from the hamper. They have been known to watch the weather channel for hours if the remote is more than arms length away, and no matter how long they have lived in their home, they never know where anything is.

Whether it be a husband, son, father, grandfather or stray neighbor kid, you will find they all exhibit these same habits and traits to one degree or another. Without them I suppose life would be boring. What would women talk about if the world were perfect? We need the male species to keep us entertained, to keep our cars running and our sinks unclogged. For these and many others reasons we keep them around. We marry them, we give birth to them, we love them, we tolerate them and we thank God for them.

** DISCLAIMER – I know women are capable of doing these things but it makes men feel important to think we can’t. If they feel important they are better behaved. **

Someone just went into the bathroom so I must gather my cleaning supplies. I wonder if it would overload their circuitry if I made them clean it themselves. This should be fun . . .

Crystal R. Cook