What a mighty good man

It's been kinda, sorta, well... a rough week.  The kind of week that makes me ask questions like, "What the Sam-heck ever made me think I could be a mother?" or "Why don't my kids ever get abducted by aliens?  Is that really too much to ask?".

First of all, I studied art in school, which means I took one obligatory child development class.  They never mentioned a "developmental phase" called "my parents suck rocks".  And just because I own ovaries does not mean I have a quarter of a clue.  Frankly, the trial and error method we have employed thus far occasionally has it's flaws.  I prefer the "fly by the seat of my temper" approach.  There is the whole "random grope for a consequence" that inspired the infamous "no fun for 6 months" grounding.  That was a good one.  Oh, and let's not forget the ever popular "because I said so." 

Oh, yeah, baby.  Now that's parenting.

But this week I bottomed out in a whole new way.  I was ruminating on how rotten one of our kids has been acting of late.  I was counting all of the ingratitudes.  We do so much for these kids!  We give them so much of our time and attention.  Why, if I had been given one tenth the kind of help and encouragement we give our kids...

and that is where I fell off the track I was on,

and landed on a new one.  And then came the train that broad-sided me. 

I started thinking about how hard I had struggled in school.  I was left alone to deal with difficult homework.  When I got behind in classes, I tried frantically to dig my self out.  I was a marginal student with a very low academic self-image.  I began to think about how many hundreds of hours of homework help Guy has given to Ethan, and I wondered, what might I have done if I had been given that level of help and support?  I felt jealous.  Seriously jealous.

Then, this week Guy and I began talking about how busy his father had been when he was a kid, always gone to work or fulfilling church responsibilities.  Afterward, I began thinking about how blessed my kids are to have the dad they have.  He may not be the sports dad that Ethan thinks he wishes he had, but he is such an amazing dad. 

He rocks babies, reads stories and he cooks an amazing dinner out of a can of garbanzos and some rice.  He is the homework-helper extraordinaire, and never misses a dad-kid date.  He is so patient, and really considers the hearts of our children when we counsel together about how to better parent our kids.

So this parenting thing isn't second nature to me,

 or even third, but my Guy has it down pat.

My kids are soooo blessed, and so am I.

Guy crooning to Jonah, the only song that puts him to sleep...

 "Go to sleep, little creep..."
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It takes a real man to go to craft night at the school. 
Pass the feathers, please!
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Never ending homework help.
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Helping daddy make ganache!

Just another tea party.
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Teaching Adam how the piano works.
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Happy Father's Day, Sweetie. 

When you finally get around to reading this in a few weeks,

come find me and I will smootch you (maybe more!) (like two smootches).

Love ya, Dude.