This is more or less a continuation of yesterday’s post. My oldest went to a party last night-a birthday party for a friend. I went to pick him up at 7, and it was funny to see him with girls. As a ‘girl’ myself, or rather as someone that used to be a girl, I could tell that one in particular had a bit of a crush on my son. The way she smiled at him, and then avoided making any sort of eye contact with me were two of my clues. And yet, when I was talking to C, I noticed her checking me out…seeing what sort of woman her crushes mom is. I suppose it is daunting for a young woman to meet her crushes first ‘lady.’ To see the type of woman that has raised the object of her affection, and it made me smile. My son was completely oblivious to this young lady’s affections, but I don’t think that will last long.

A, our eight year old, has had to write stories for school lately. This week he is to pretend he is a butterfly, and write about what he would do. He said if he was a girl butterfly, he would look for a nice boy butterfly, and they would be together with four babies. He then said that because they loved each other, they would have a new baby in the girl’s tummy. A, wrote this shortly after we told him that I have a baby in my tummy, and that around Christmas he would have a new brother or sister. This story was his way of telling us he was excited about the new baby. When I asked him if he would like a brother or sister, he took a moment and said: “A brother.”

“Why? Don’t you want a sister?” I asked him, surprised.

He smiled at me and answered, “If I have a brother, I will try to be nice to him. Sometimes C and J aren’t nice to me, but if I am nice to H and the new baby, they can learn.”

A part of me was sad, as I was reminded once again how much A craves attention from his older brothers, and how rarely he gets positive attention from them, and yet there was another part of me that was so proud of his observation. He was able to understand and process how he felt when his brothers were mean to him, and realize that MAYBE if they had a ‘good example’ of what it means to be a good brother, they might learn.

Every day these four little boys of mine do something to surprise me, something to remind me that being a stay at home mom IS important.

My oldest, C, is about to turn 13. He has a long way to go before he is a man, but the process has begun.

I coach swimming, and last Thursday I went to the pool to help some of the kids from the Special Olympics. My two oldest boys asked if they could help, and of course I said yes. C was working with a little boy that was about 8. And honestly, he surprised me. C was patient and kind to this young boy. He held him in the water so he could float on his back. In the hour he worked with him, he never once expressed frustration or irritation. He laughed with this little boy and swam along next to him.

When the hour was up, this little boy ran up to his parents and said how cool my son was. What an awesome new friend he had. While C was waiting for me he swam some extra laps, and this little boy watched him and clapped with delight. It was so enlightening for me to see my son through someone else’s eyes.

A week later thinking about this brings tears to my eyes. While sitting here waiting for the new addition to our family to be born (YES you read right!) I am realizing that maybe, I am doing an ok job with the ones that are here. And in the end, isn’t that all we can ask?

I have heard people say that they fall in love with their spouse all over again.  There was a time when I even agreed, but today I realized…I never DON’T love my husband, but often he will do something that reminds me HOW much I love him.  It is easy for me to express my annoyance with him, for me to tell him I am tired or angry, but I wonder if I tell him often enough how much I love him?  How much he means to me?

I suppose for some a grand gesture is needed for this sort of appreciation to wash over them, but I realize for me it’s the little things.  Our three year old will seek out his daddy, who works at home, at random times during the day.  My husband’s usual response, “What’s up babycakes?” often accompanied by a quick kiss on the head or a pat on our little boy’s diapered behind.

I admit to being something of a worywart.  There was a time when I was afraid a test from my doctor might not go so well, I was scared, I would often succumb to fits of tears.  His usual response, “You’ll be fine.”  At the time it annoyed me greatly.  I remember telling him once that if I wasn’t fine I would be mad at him for lying to me.  And yet, a part of me feels that this is his way of coping, his way of telling me that the thought of him going on without me being healthy by his side just isn’t in the cards.  He isn’t brushing me off, he is trying to lend me some of his confidence.

My husband made this blog for me to get out whatever I wanted-my fears, my frustrations, my annoyances, etc.  And yet, I think I do a good job of that all on my own…I am sure my kids and my husband would agree.  Instead, perhaps I will use this blog as a reminder to tell my husband and my children how much I love them…and that yes, it IS the small things that matter.

I am a fidgety person. If I am watching something on TV, I will also be reading, or occasionally working on my cross stitch, because I just don’t know how to relax without feeling guilty. By guilty I mean, I should be doing something more constructive. (Occasionally a good book will completely enthrall me, and I will be able to relax, as long as I can do ten loads of laundry, five sinks of dishes, and clean the next day.)

However, when my husband leaves, it gets worse. I can’t fall asleep at night because I just think of things I should be doing; I can’t just relax and play with the kids because I have so many other things I think are just as important. Recently, Roy went to Denver for a week; it was late on Wednesday (at this point he had been gone since Sunday) and I had a horrible heachache. So, I decided to take a bath. While sitting in the tub, praying for my medicine to kick in, it dawned on me. I don’t want to go to bed, because I am alone. I figured out that one of the things I most look forward to is curling up next to the big, warm body of my husband. I like to joke that he is always warm, and since I am always cold, I use him as kind of a personal heating blanket, but when he is gone… well, obviously I am alone in our big bed.

Roy keeps me sane; he likes to joke that I am anal and probably have a touch of OCD. He is right. I probably do, but for some reason when he is around… it is ok if my purse isn’t sitting precisely three inches from the computer. It is ok if all the dishes are not washed, if the laundry basket is almost full, because I can be with him.

Now, I realize if you read this you are going to think… WOW, talk about co-dependent. Far from it… when Roy is around I think I can do anything. Not only do I not have to worry about someone taking good care of the kids, but I appreciate his quiet encouragement. I appreciate knowing there is someone that thinks that I can do anything. There are times when I wonder why he isn’t praising me for doing this or that, why he isn’t telling me to “Go out and do it.” And then it dawns on me, it is because there is never and was never any doubt in his mind that I could do it, nor does it dawn on him that I doubt myself. You often hear talk of people finding their soul mates. Well I found mine. I never wonder if I will get bored with him. I never doubt that we will grow old together. I never doubt that I made the right decision to take a chance and fall in love again.