Standing in the Shadows... or I Don't Know What!

I wonder if this is true about all men or just my four punkin seeds' daddy? To be sure, he is a wonder. The things he can get by with... that I can't, are no less than astounding at times. He has always been a favorite of his little princesses; a hero to his son... as it should be. He has always been their 'knight in shining armor' and has surely had the wisdom of a prophet in their eyes; the man who could rescue them from any earthly dragon. I'm sure their perspective has alot to do with the fact that I was a common occurance on a daily basis; he was a rare and wonderful surprise who popped in with his happy-go-lucky demeanor. Always playful; never demanding anything; always there with a generous hand whether our bank account actually had a balance or not. Whatever they want they get... short of him REALLY hanging the moon for them of course. If I am listening to a favorite song and they think it's boring; the radio station gets changed. If they dropped the ball on an obvious and well-known responsibility, "it's OK". They're too tired; too busy; need to have more fun and less work or just didn't understand. I would say, "Get a job." and he would say, "They're only kids once." I would say "No driving until you have a license." He would give them the keys.... afterall we lived in a small town, so "what could it hurt?" I would say, "This is your last warning!" He would watch them do it again and say, "Don't let your mama know." What am I; chopped liver?!! However, I will say, at those few times he would demand obedience or respect or give correction, our kids would listen up. He could do more good with one phrase than I could with the wisdom of a thousand words given seven days a week just to help them survive until adulthood. My husband can be bored out of his mind at a meeting, family gathering or public function; sit there like a bump on a pickle and not say a word unless someone wants to talk to him about football, and he is lauded as the life of the party; the wise one; the mentor of youth in America. I can voice a comment alluring to a small frustration and my kids will come to bat for their daddy; jump on me like chickens on a junebug, sure I am jumping to unfounded conclusions. They are sure that whatever their daddy does is right and most likely understandable; from leaving his socks in a ball and apple cores on the floor in the living room; to spending much needed time sleeping in front of a blaring TV. It is true that he works alot of hours and goes the extra mile when it comes to his job. He will truly drop everything to help someone who asks... well, almost anyone. Need I tell you the hours that mothering demands? I will not even go there. Funny, the sympathy this man of my dreams receives as he falls exhausted into his trusty recliner with everyone's blessing, yet I get tired and am mockingly told that I am getting 'old'. I turn up the TV a notch and reference to becoming elderly is once again spoken over me. Never mind the brain-cell-destroying volume I endured as they were growing up.

I try to diligently work in my home to make it an orderly, beautiful and inviting retreat for all who enter our door; have spent years learning and improving my ability to do these things and keeping my home is something I honestly enjoy and find rewarding. In turn, I am laughed at for my clean and tidy habits. Trying to get everything done each morning before I go to work is not always successful, so there are things left to do on the weekends. Just the other day, I remembered some garden tools that were left out, so I went to put them away; fed the dogs while I was at it; loaded the dishwasher and started the laundry. I had fixed a nice breakfast for my family earlier and at some point I went out to sweep the porch; all of which I thought needed to be done while my dear husband and our youngest and her husband enjoyed watching ESPN for awhile before we had more company. As I walked through the living room, I again was mocked and accused of 'pacing', rather than any acknowledgement of accomplishing anything worthwhile. Ah well, at least the tools were put away, clean towels were on the way, the dogs were fed, there would be a clean counter free of the breakfast mess, and less cobwebs and leaves for grandbabies to munch on while playing out on the porch. I heard a little song recently regarding the quirks of some dear people and thought it was actually funny... until I later thought to myself.... "I wonder what my verse says?" and then it wasn't funny any longer. I am still trying to be a good wife/mother/grandmother, but I fall short so many times. I wish I were more fun, cuter, more 'with it', but I am me. I keep plugging along, doing what I think is best; working hard at what I am called to, even though there is no monetary value or payment for it. I keep loving how my kids love and respect my sweet husband and wondering how he gets by with stuff. One evening as we took two sleepy and cranky grandbabies home to put them to bed and after realizing the extra pack-'n-play had been left in a car that wasn't where we were; one of my girls called their daddy thinking maybe he would stop watching a football game with the boys and bring it. He surprisingly said, "Just lay him on a bed with pillows around him when he goes to sleep. He'll be fine." She thought how funny her daddy was. Am I funny when I give instructional and/or practical advice like that? I don't think so! That man! :0)