When mothers entered the workforce with renewed intensity during the last half of the twentieth century, many came under attack for abandoning their families. Numerous research studies appeared on the effects of daycare on children and the effects of maternal absence on the psychological development of children.
Women who worked (without pay) in the home raising their children and women who worked jobs outside of the home felt pressured from all sides. Women who stayed home to raise their children suffered from feelings of inadequacy to lower self-esteem to anxiety about not bringing money home to the family, while women who worked outside the home experienced guilt and sadness about being away from their children. Mine is a generation of women who determined with a fresh ferocity to shift the worlds of finance, law, medicine, and any other workplace dominated by men to accommodate us. We were tired of limited choices, disrespect, and often, just plain bored with the mundane task of keeping our homes in order and our children well cared for.
Mothers can find research and books to support and encourage their lifestyle choice, whatever it is. Where parenting is concerned, there is no positive research or advice. That’s why I hold much of it loosely. My belief is that if we mothers are tough enough to be honest with ourselves, we will know what our sons need. We know the moment they are born our sons need to form strong emotional attachments to their mother or their father in order to learn to trust that they will be cared for and that they are worth being cared for.
Many argue, and even some research shows, that as long as any adult consistently provides for a boy’s basic needs during his first one to two years of life, he will fair well psychologically. The problem is, for the majority of mothers, we know better. We believe that our son needs a strong bond with us, and we with him.
Boys need to form emotional bonds with their mothers over time in a consistent manner. We do know that boys who fail to form these bonds in the first two years of life suffer attachment issues for many years and are at risk for of never being able to form healthy attachments to others. And boys can’t form bonds or learn to trust others if their mother (or consistent mother figure) isn’t available or dependable.
We need only to look at the psychological health of many boys in orphanages from the old Soviet Union. Many of these boys were adopted by families in the United States. Many of the older boys, in particular, demonstrated serious attachment disorders and parents of these boys were distraught and frightened because while many of these orphaned boys acted quiet, compliant, and sweet externally, internally they were almost vacant. Many were so emotionally bankrupt that the only feelings they were comfortable feeling were anger and hostility. The circumstances of their infancy years demonstrate why their comfort with only negative feelings makes sense.
When my patient Andrew was born in Ukraine, his mother was very poor and placed him in an orphanage. He was given a crib and fed several times a day, but was removed from the crib and held only one or two times a week, his adoptive mother was told. He walked at age two rather than age one because he never had the opportunity to be out of his crib.
In short, he experienced a profound sense of abandonment. And abandonment, I believe, is the most painful human experience possible. Andrew was deprived of touch, affection, eye contact, and love, and was given the minimum calories needed to survive. He experienced a profound emptiness because no one was available to him: physically, psychologically, or mentally. And I believe that even in those first months of life a child understands his own value on some level. If his needs are met by another, he will feel valued. If they are not, in a very fundamental way he will feel worthless.
Andrew had no one available for him in any meaningful way. He became invisible, probably even to himself. Lacking emotionally security, he could not laugh or smile. As he grew, he could not show or feel any affection, because none had been offered to him when he was young. He walled himself off from receiving any positive affection from another (even though it was probably never offered) because feeling any affection or warmth would remind him of all the affection he failed to receive.
Andrew felt safe feeling angry and hostile because these feelings do not presuppose a sense of security or value. But they do offer a sense of control, of “getting even;” anger is a safe way of releasing sadness, loneliness, or grief.
Because Andrew lacked a mother to give him physical and emotional contact for the first six years of his life, he locked himself into an emotional glass cage. He was safe there. And because he had been there from such an early age and at such a crucial point in his development of trust, his adoptive mother wondered if he could ever be removed. Even the best child psychiatrist in our area wondered the same thing. Andrew became physically violent by the third grade. He hit another boy so hard he broke his leg. By the time Andrew was in sixth grade, his parents were gravely concerned that he might harm his siblings—or even them—while they slept at night.
Andrew’s upbringing demonstrates the extreme damage done to a boy when a parent is unavailable. But all around us—in our schools, sports teams, and daycare centers—there are boys who suffer attachment issues and healthy emotional development issues because they have mothers who are physically or emotionally unavailable.
Mothers who are drunk are emotionally unavailable to their sons. Mothers who compulsively work or play are unavailable. Mothers who suffer from depression, obsessive-compulsive disorder, attention deficit disorder, and excessive stress are physically and emotionally unavailable at times to their sons. In short, many of us are unavailable to our sons at various points during their lives.
Every mother must examine her life, take inventory of her energy for work and motherhood, and then ask how she can be present more for her son. This is really hard stuff because all mothers struggle at different times with different issues. But raising great sons demands that we take inventory of our energies because boys need their mother’s time, attention, and affections.
There is a good reason why many adult men fail to trust women. They do so because many have never experienced healthy bonding with their mothers. And if a boy grows up with an alcoholic, workaholic, or absent mother, he quickly learns to withdraw from women. But the hurt doesn’t stop with the withdrawal. He pulls away to guard himself from further insult. He subconsciously concludes that she is not available for him because he is not worth her time or affection. And if he is valued this little by his mother, he must be valued less by others who aren’t supposed to love him. Ultimately his affection and respect for himself suffer and he feels quite alone.
The investment of physical and emotional energy that a mother gives a son is very serious stuff. When a mother chooses to be away from her son, regardless of the reason, the impact on her son is greater than she realizes. Sometimes mothers can’t help being separated. My purpose in reminding mothers of this is not to incite guilt—I myself am a working mother—but simply to state a fact: to be blessed by sons is to be called to a great responsibility. Every choice we make as mothers has farther-reaching effects on our son than we realize.
The choices, loves, and beliefs of a boy’s mother craft his character. Mothers are a powerful presence in their sons’ lives. This knowledge shouldn’t frighten us; it should motivate us. Boys need more of their mothers in order to be greater men. And any mother who follows her maternal instincts, examines her own motivations, and does the best she can, will be a good mother. Boys don’t need perfection; they just need you there.
Jimmy O’Donnell was a mean kid. In his short ten years he had successfully and single-handedly terrorized every young boy on his street. The girls in his neighborhood dodged him; one look at him and each of them knew that Jimmy O. was nothing but trouble.
Even Jimmy’s mother feared him. She never admitted it, but it was clear to Jimmy’s teachers, his school principal, and other parents on Jimmy’s street. She avoided him. Like an irresponsible dog owner, she shooed him outside to roam the streets.
Seven-year-olds Mike, Bobby, and Evan lived on Jimmy’s street. Whenever Jimmy hopped on his scooter, one of two things occurred: either they would chicken out and run away, or, if they were feeling particularly tough and united that day, the threesome would stand in a yard and withstand Jimmy’s taunting.
One day, Jimmy made an enormous mistake. He hopped on his scooter and came to terrorize them. “Mike, Bobby!” he shouted at the two of them from his scooter. “Hey, get over here, you mother-loving, booger-eating turds!” The two boys froze. They were not a threesome. Today they were a twosome and each looked at the other anxiously, knowing that they needed to decide very quickly what to do. Should they run? Should they look up and risk making eye contact with Jimmy? If they did, their day was doomed. Or so they thought.
“Whatcha want Jimmy?” Mike blurted. Bobby was stunned. Blood drained from his olive face and suddenly he felt nauseated. “What’s the deal, Mike? Are you crazy or something?
“Let’s get out of here!” Bobby blurted.
Mike shoved his fists deep into his jean pockets and started at Jimmy. “No,” he said. “You don’t scare me Jimmy O’Donnell.”
Jimmy leapt from his scooter and tossed it on Mike’s freshly mown lawn. Jimmy had a fresh velvety buzz cut and Mike saw snippets of his pink scalp beneath the trimmed stubble. Rumor had it that Jimmy shaved. Some said that he could actually grow a beard at age ten—and this made his steps more daunting as he approached Mike.
“What did ya say, punk? Did I hear you say something to me?”
Mike blurted, “Yeah, Jimmy. I did.” Mike stretched his neck and pushed his bony shoulders back. Without a shirt his scrawny frame looked like it could snap like a chicken bone. Bobby stood beside him with a short-sleeved madras shirt buttoned to the neck. He was still frozen.
“I’m sick of your bullying everybody. Me and Bobby here, we want you to get lost. And now.” With that command, Jimmy darted toward Bobby, chasing him like a rooster chasing a chick. Bobby’s skinny arms flailed as he ran and screamed, Jimmy pursuing him easily.
“Knock it off Jimmy,” Mike demanded. “Why don’t ya go chase someone your own age? Suddenly Jimmy turned towards Mike, spit flying from the sides of his mouth, beads of sweat erupting from his scalp and resting atop his buzz. “I’m gonna make you eat that. Come over here, you weenie!” Jimmy shouted at Mike.
Mike ran out of his yard and into the McNally’s next door. Jimmy followed. Without a thought, Mike threw himself up into a branch of Mr. McNally’s maple tree and scurried toward the sky. His heart pounded in his palms and now he felt sweat running down his bare back. When he reached the branches that could no longer hold his forty-five-pound frame, Mike stopped. He was ashamed that his heart was racing so fast and that he was panting.
Suddenly Bobby jumped into the tree and climbed up to Mike. They sat there like frightened cats, while Jimmy snarled below. Mike looked down and there stood Jimmy, standing guard at the foot of the tree.
Little did they know that Mike’s mother looked out through her kitchen window at just this moment. She searched her yard for the boys. When she couldn’t see them, she opened her back door to get a better look. Then she saw Jimmy, standing there in front of the McNally’s big maple tree with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.
She watched for a moment to see what the two would do. She saw Jimmy look up and yell something at the boys then turn and laugh. Enough was enough, she thought.
She slammed her back door and marched over to the tree. Her glare fixed on Jimmy O’Donnell’s face. Mary wasn’t a large woman, but one thing was certain. She was bigger and stronger than Jimmy and she was a mad mother.
Jimmy never saw her coming. He was too engrossed in his glee. When she reached him, Mary grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around. “Just who do you think you are, Jimmy O’Donnell? You think you can come and bully younger kids whenever you want? Well, those days are over. You won’t scare my son or his friends anymore.”
With that resolved, Mary grabbed his elbows and locked his arms in an “X” behind his back. “Come on down here, you two,” she yelled up to Mike and Bobby. “I’ve got a job for you.” The two stunned boys scampered down the tree and saw Jimmy desperately trying to wiggle from Mary’s angry grip. When they landed on the ground, Mary marched all three away from the tree and into her backyard.
“Boys,” she started, “Jimmy won’t be bothering you anymore, because if he does he has to deal with me. I’m going to hold him here for a minute. I want each of you to take a swing at him.”
Mike’s mouth fell open. Hit Jimmy O’Donnell? Was she out of her mind?
“Come on boys, step up here. Take a swing. Mike, you first,” she insisted. With that, Mike balled his small fingers into a fist and swung his birdlike arm smack into the center of Jimmy’s belly. “One more, a little harder, Mike, then it’s Bobby’s turn.” Again, he readied his aim and smacked Jimmy in the belly.
Bobby followed and took two swings, just the same. Jimmy didn’t cry. The punches were so weak and his muscle so strong, but still Mike thought he saw tears tucked in the corner of Jimmy’s eyes.
After Bobby swung, Mary released Jimmy. He ran from the three of them back to his scooter. As he ran away, Mary thought she heard him utter, “Just wait, Mrs. Winter. My dad’s gonna come and beat you up.”
From that day forward Jimmy left Mike and Bobby, along with many of the other neighborhood boys, alone.
This incident occurred many years ago and if it happened today, Mrs. Winter would probably have been charged with assault and battery. She wasn’t a violent woman and she knew that two scrawny boys couldn’t hurt any part of Jimmy save his ego. Forty years ago mothers seemed to understand more about young boys. There is a pecking order at work in male groups regardless of a boy’s age. And in the periphery of each group waits another boy watching for opportunities to push his way in and pounce on whomever he can. He doesn’t want to join the order, he wants to crush it and crown himself king.
Mary saw this and she responded. With no intention to negotiate she identified a problem and allowed her maternal instincts to drive her actions. Bullies must be confronted and she realized that she was the one to dethrone Jimmy.
I’m certainly not advocating that mothers follow their young boys and make their sons punch the lights out of bullies. However, I believe that mothers have become confused by listening to too many experts and over-reading and over-thinking everything about young boys’ behavior. Just follow your instincts, use common sense, and remember that not only should boys be boys, but mothers should be mothers. Papers have been written in journals on bullies. Teachers have lectured and parents have argued with each other over the behavior of their boys. But bullies have remained on their thrones on playgrounds across America, because we refuse to confront very real truths about boyhood behavior and then do something about it.
Mothers view sons differently than they do their daughters. They have an instinctual desire to preserve their son’s masculinity and this means preserving the perception that her son is physically and mentally strong. She will never allow him to be at the bottom of the pecking order.
Source : http://drjamesdobson.org/blogs/dr-meeker-blog/dr-meeker-blog/2015/10/12/over-dependence-unavailability
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