Some will despise this post, they'll tell me to go out and get some real problems...but read on. I know I did it to myself. I got my feet kicked out under me, it was a total surprise and I reacted poorly. I thought I was such an independently happy little mother, turns out I was wrong about being independent.
I got home from girls camp last weekend. I was up in the mountain air, loving the girls and being with my leader friends but my heart was thinking of how Nathan was doing and hoping he wasn't having too tough of a time.
It turns out, maybe I should have stayed longer. Maybe I should have prayed for sick girls and teething babies. I was hoping for an, 'I'm so glad your home, I don't know how you do it!'
I got home late Friday night, house was clean. Laundry was kept up. Dishes done. Hmmm, maybe I should peek in on my babies. Babies clean, happy, sleeping peacefully, girls, same.
(I am surprised Nathan didn't greet me wearing an apron, with a bow in his hair!)
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As our bathroom remodel drags out, so does the time between shaving. |
The next morning, the girls looked at me in dismay. Why are you here? Dad and Grammy took us to the zoo, we went to the splash pad and played for hours. We ate at McDonald's and it was awesome. Why did you come home? Demoralizing.
I thundered around the house for a few days hurt, refusing love from anyone that could speak in sentences. I wasn't needed. Nate can do a better job than me with one hand tied behind his back. Maybe I should go back to work. Where's my old resume?
When he comes home from work, Nate gladly begins tidying toys and fluffing pillows. Nate helps with diapers and toilets, makes meals and reads stories. I am sure he is the reason we have multiples!! Actually Dr Andrews had something to do with it, but you know. Nathan helps carry my burden, but he usually runs with it, sometimes, I drag.
The man lives in a state of ready. Ready to read books, ready to play games, ready to cuddle. When Nate was a boy, he wanted to be a mother when he grew up. What a tribute to Pam, his momma.
He spent the week trying to woo me back to him, and the girls. Usually content with the joys of my life, I spent the week feeling sorry for myself and pushing everyone away. At one point, Hazel drew a picture of me and I had a sad face. I asked why it was sad and she said, 'Because you think we don't love you but we do.'
I have the finest tunnel vision in town when it comes to my faults. Nathan is not perfect, he knows that. I am not trying to make anyone judge their spouse harshly. I just wanted to tell you how I struggle as a human, I want great cosmic powers, I need them now. I discount wisdom learned from 'time and experience', discernment and reliance on the Lord. Perfection doesn't come in 4 years of raising children, but over a lifetime.
Hazel cried to me the other day and the gist of her tears were because CC was so good and never got in trouble. 'Why did CC and dad get the gift to be good and you and I didn't?'
Ahhh. Here I am (humbly) being grouped in with the maturity of a 4 year old. 'You mean the gift to stay calm Haz, we all have the gift to be good. But yes, they have the gift to be calm."