Camo Hats and Stick Weapons

Most days I'm beyond thrilled that I have a child that is so thoroughly all boy, no one can deny it. Last night when Drew got ready for bed and he was wearing his camo hat with his pajamas, I thought it was the cutest thing in the world. When he turns our entire apartment into a Tonka truck vs. Matchbox car demolition derby, I smile at the epic noise level and go about my business.

For those of you who knew me growing up, this probably doesn't come as too much of a shock. Aside from the prissy ballerina side, that is most definitely there, I spent much of my time running around with my brother's friends. Thus, I'm not exactly a stranger to the male fascination with bodily functions and beating each other up.

Its that last part that catches me off guard on a fairly regular basis. I feel like I'm constantly replaying the same few audio clips, "We don't hit!" "Its not nice to hit!" "Why did you hit him?!?" As I asked my mom yesterday, "Please tell me that at some point social functions won't end with us leaving because my child hit someone!?!?" She, of course, reassured me and gave the sage advice that I so often need.

Don't get me wrong, its not like Drew is some terroristic two year old that parents should steer their children away from. He's actually sweet and affectionate and runs to hug his friends when he sees them. (Of course, they often flinch as they see him coming...not that they don't want the hug, Drew just towers over most kids his age.) Eventually though, the boy nature just kicks in. Someone takes something that he thinks is his or invades his space and the territorial nature emerges. Sometimes, its as simple as deciding that an awesome sword fight is in order...and by sword I mean a giant tree branch that a child his age has no business being able to lift.

So then my dilemma arises. I've never really minded the pillow fights, wrestling matches, sword fights, football or hockey games going on all over my house and flying toys are something I've become accustomed to. Drew's always played rough with his daddy, his uncles, his Geeda and at times, even me. It seems though that at his age he can't really distinguish between wrestling with his Daddy or wrestling with his best friend. There may also be some confusion between a safe and relatively harmless foam sword and a gigantic tree branch.

So here is the question: How do I continue to let him be a boy but try and keep the rough play to a minimum...at least for now. I know at some point, most parents say, "Boys will be boys" and they aren't so concerned about rough play but let me be clear, those parents are (generally speaking) not the parents of cute little toddler boys. Seriously, I'm open to suggestions.