Boys Change When They're Ready - Not When We Are

Building Boys Bulletin 7-14-25

I spent more than an hour today watching a caterpillar.

I’m on my third summer of raising monarch caterpillars — something I became interested in courtesy of my 2nd son, BTW, who went through an intense butterfly phase at ages 4 & 5 —

and this particular caterpillar had been hanging in a J-shape for more than half a day already.

Monarch caterpillars, I know, hang like that for approximately 12-24 hours before transforming into a chrysalis. I’ve watched the process before; it’s amazing, & when it really gets going, it’s quicker than you think. (I write that, and realize how very like human labor & birth that is — all those hours, when it looks, from the outside anyway, like nothing much is happening, and then, at the end, when birth is inevitable, there’s no stopping it; suddenly, there is a baby.)

Because I’ve now spent a lot of time raising and observing caterpillars, I’m better than I used to be at picking up the signs that a transformation is imminent: The caterpillar’s antennae look a little bit shaggy. The head area takes on a green-ish hue. The front legs become noticeably closer together. The creature wriggles every so slightly, it’s stripes coming almost imperceptibly closer and then farther apart.

The signs were there — well, all except for the shaggy antennae — so I settled in to watch this AM. I didn’t want to miss witnessing the moment! I sat next to my caterpillar habitat and journaled, glancing up every so often, just to be sure I didn’t miss anything.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the hanging caterpillar dramatically twist & convulse. I looked up; caterpillars wiggle toward the end of transformation. But in this case, the twisting was inspired by an unwelcome visit from another mature caterpillar, looking for a place to hang and begin his own transformation. This caterpillar’s antennae had bumped into & stroked the already-hanging cat, which reacted by twisting itself violently in an attempt to fend off the intruder. The intruder got the message and backed off. The hanging J again relaxed.

I detected a bit more green (I thought) on the caterpillar’s head. Soon, I thought. Within a half hour, he’ll transform.

Awhile later, the eager-to-hang caterpillar again bumped into my getting-ready-to-transform caterpillar. Again, the one hanging reacted violently, twisting and convulsing to protect his space. And I realized — that caterpillar isn’t so different from our adolescent sons.