To be a ‘Motherboy’; we should all be so fortunate
No matter how hard I’ve tried, I can’t make calling my son “Buster Bluth” a thing. It’s got no context in my house because I’m the only one who’s ever seen “Arrested Development,” let alone obsessed over every episode.
But “Motherboy,” well, even those who haven’t seen the awesomely brilliant and hilarious comedy series can appreciate that nickname, because it sounds like what it is — a mama’s boy in the making.
That’s my 2-year-old son, “Motherboy,” the apple of his mom’s eye and who will likely be the centerpoint of some weird mother-son orbit/relationship long into the future. “Motherboy XXX” is the name of a particular “Arrested Development” episode. For my purposes, though, it’s just a comic little handle to yell out at my boy when he’s whining or snuggling up to his mama.
Unfortunately, I’m bringing more to it than a wink and a nod. I see adult mama’s boys as freaks, emotional misfits and people to be made fun of for their unnatural ties binding them to their mothers. I have some tongue-in-cheek fear that my own son will be like that with his mom, that he’ll be a big lumbering Baby Huey running to my wife every time life hands him a curve ball.
Even as I write this and believe it, I also understand it’s completely wrong and reveals my own inadequacies, needs and complications with my mother-son relationship.
I am no “Motherboy.” In fact, I have never had what I consider an even remotely similar familial tie to any family member. That is something deep; part me, part them.
My mother and I have always had a complex relationship, and I’m getting way past the point of placing blame any longer. I’m almost 40 years old and I need to own up to my own stuff.
Still, what I do understand is that this so-called mama’s boy relationship that I cringe at and see as so alien to me is in actuality proven to be beneficial for the sound emotional, mental and social growth of most men, from childhood into adulthood.
Kate Stone Lombardi, author of “The Mama’s Boy Myth: Why Keeping Our Sons Close Makes Them Stronger,” has written a definitive work on the issue and has been the authoritative voice on mother-son relationships for many years now, appearing as a guest columnist in major newspapers and magazines and on radio and television.
Her assessments and research range from the womb to later in life. She’s found that baby boys with secure attachments to their moms have fewer behavioral problems, perform better in school and have better self-control.
A study by the American Psychological Association, she writes, shows that boys close to their mothers tend to not feed into male stereotypes of machismo, thereby remaining more emotionally available with the ability to forge stronger friendships, and they tend to suffer from less depression and anxiety than their peers.
Teenage boys engage in less risky behavior, she writes, and don’t as easily bend under negative peer pressure. Into adulthood, she said, the result is a man more articulate with his emotions, able to listen, who respects women and treats them that way, which translates to both interpersonal relationships, child-rearing and in the workplace.
It’s almost painful to read a lot of these descriptions from Lombardi, considering I can run down the list and check off the attributes I possess that are the polar opposite. In the last couple of years it’s become clear to me the way my relationship with my mom has manifested itself negatively in adulthood. While such a discovery comes with no quick fix, it does leave me understanding that my fears of having a mama’s boy for a son are not only ridiculous, but have everything to do with my own bag of cats in my head.
If anything, I should be praying my son continues to be a “Motherboy,” a nickname to be used with pride and hope for an emotionally sound and secure man, not a name full of sarcasm revealing my own ignorance and insecurity.
This column first appeared in the Imperial Valley Press, Aug. 9, 2013.