My man finds time. Time for fixing and doing. Time for sleeping and playing. I don’t mind that he snoozes on the couch with one kid snuggled into his chest and the other sitting upon his hip while they watch golf or football on a lazy Sunday.
I don’t mind that he’ll take them both to the hardware store to get supplies for whichever house project is next up on the list. While I’m running around getting dinner ready and making school lunches he’s outside throwing fly balls to one and sky rocketing rubber band helicopters to the other.
Forever arguing over who gets to go piggy-back on daddy upstairs at the end of the night. Who gets to sit next to him at the dinner table or go with him on an errand. He shows them how to start or tend a fire, me standing by with a nervous eye worrying if they’ll burn themselves. Knotting a fishing line or wrapping a worm around a hook. Talking to my boys in a calm yet stern voice when we catch wind of some wrong doing or trouble at school.
I love that in my Mother’s Day Poem, my son wrote among a few other tender sentiments, “I love my mom cause she’s pretty, especially when she goes out with my dad.” “Got both boys. Take your time at work. See you at home”, sometimes I’m treated with such a text. I smile big, singing along to rock n’roll on a leisurely ride home and arrive to see all my boys running around the yard, shooting hoops in the driveway or mowing the lawn and watering flowers.
Sometimes my husband travels for work. It’s a little harder on us all. I run both boys to and from school. Dinners, homework, and housework all on me. Keeping a full and tight schedule is best. Staying busy to keep from missing daddy too much. Packing our spare time with crafts and hikes. I do love taking the boys on hikes. Along a creek or a climbing trail. Perhaps we stumble upon a waterfall or pack a picnic. Always in search of the perfect hiking stick or asking for time to sit on a log and eat one of the prized snacks we brought along. My oldest taking charge and leading the way, encouraging his little brother. As if he’s trying to step in and guide him just how dad would.
Forever effortlessly easing my nerves when a scrape or scrap happens. He remains calm when we’re on a shallow bank of shale and our boys are climbing and throwing stones so fast that I panic with the thought of them falling on the rocks or into cold waters. Instead he teaches them to skip the rocks and their focus narrows.
Sometimes I question his sternness and other times I’m amazed at his compassion and connectedness. I sometimes feel left out being the only girl, but they all show me so much love.