Two things worried me about having a baby boy.

One, the debate about circumcision. The other was war.

Once it was obvious his dad was going to win and my boy would join the legions of others who bear this horror, I became crazy mom. I demanded (and made a big stink about it) that he be numbed and in no way hurt. Not a whimper. Not a sting was permitted.

So, my midwife arranged for some medicine, saying it was quite unusual for a mom to ask for it. The doctor who did it thought I was hysterical mom and came to visit me after the procedure. He said my boy slept through the entire thing and by the way, he was an ex-army doc who  circumcised “many men” without pain relief and they did fine.

Well. In the Army, isn’t it part of the law of men to not show pain? This was a day old infant. My son. Nobody touches my boy.

16

So, I got through sports, report cards, fights, a hundred bruised knees and feeding the entire JV football breakfast. This was nothing compared to the day he came home with information from high school about joining the Armed Forces.

I haven’t gotten to used to him learning to drive and they want to teach him to kill people?

He’s fascinated. He wants to maybe be a sniper or join the Special Forces, which my beloved late brother-on-law was active with. His Dad and I want to be supportive and non-judgmental,  I’m trying. However, this scares me. It turns me into crazy mom.

My sister and the officers her husband worked with are ready with advice for my son. I deeply admire and respect all military people and their families. I have nieces and nephews in the Army. They love it. They’re very proud.

I’ve always been a person for peace.  So I ask my friends.  Talk to me. Guide me to say the right things to my boy.

I can no longer protect him from pain.