I grew up in an all-girl family (my poor dad!) and was blessed with two boys as a mother myself. Not having the slightest notion of what to do with boys, I knew exactly what I was in for: noise and commotion, trucks and cars and every kind of sporting equipment one could think of. Although I could hardly relate, I knew there must have been a reason for this gift and took it on as a challenge.

Well, my first born son was anything but a challenge. Not the typical boy I had anticipated, he would sit for hours at a time playing with small toys, had a melt-away voice that brought grown women to their knees and was a lover. As we watched him surpass even the difficult age of two and three, even the pediatrician was skeptical.

"I guess when number two comes, we'll get a chance to see if it's the child or the parenting."

Then pregnant with number two, I took that on as a challenge. My second born son was perfect in every way and exactly like all the text books said he would be. All boy.

He didn't need language because he could use his hands to get what he wanted, could scream on a dime, never wanted to put the balls away and sitting down for a minute was equivalent to being put in a torture chamber. Game on.

At a mere 18 months, it was clear that he had come from the womb this way and I often thought it might be easier to go with the grain. I had committed myself to this challenge, though and was going to see it through. My goal: to transform him from the child I didn't understand, to my sweet boy.

The first thing I had to do was declare what behaviors I could tolerate and which I couldn't. Ex: I could handle standing over his dinner while he ate, but not using his hands to get what he wanted.

From there I carefully chose what was really important, with the understanding of who he was. He had a lot of energy, did not require much sitting time, needed stimulation, and needed his sleep. As I made my list of what really mattered, I kept in mind my ultimate goal: to have a loving child. I did not realize how daunting of a task this would be, nor how long it would take for my efforts to start paying off.

Creating the list was the hardest part and the rest was simply being consistent, defining boundaries and not throwing in the towel. No matter what.

It began with simple things, like not tolerating my children physically fighting. I'd heard my dad's stories about him and his brothers beating each other up and my friends comments: that's what boys do, but I couldn't tolerate it. I could tolerate them yelling and screaming, if that was the emotion of the hour, but they couldn't use hurtful words and they could not hurt each other physically.

I believed that they were lucky to have each other and should protect one another. Period. The punishment was simple. You will go to your room.. There were no warnings for this one.

The other really important one to me, was never expressing what was really going on inside my head. Not that I never allowed myself to yell or be angry, but I never let on that I thought he was a bit of a challenge. This was the hardest one, but what I did, was what some might call: reverse psychology.

When he would put on his most challenging personality, be it hurling himself to the ground or flailing his hands at me relentlessly, I would express the obvious.

"I love you sweet boy...but your hands are for hugs."

Sometimes he would be screaming as loud as possible as my calm words would fall from my mouth, but I didn't let it rattle me. I knew that my words were true and that they reinforced the goal I was trying to attain: To raise a loving child that knew he was loved. No matter how angry I was, I always knew how much I loved him. Sometimes it was just harder to feel than others.

Now, with my boys at the tender age of nine and twelve, when I hear people say, "You have such sweet boys," I just smile. I can't help but think of all the days when I felt like giving up because it was easier.

I can't help but think of all the days I thought my efforts were being wasted and I can't help but think of how both of them begin their day with a big warm hug for me. It is in just that moment that I know my work has paid off and that you can in fact throw a curve ball in who your children will grow to be. Read Using Behavior Charts