Matt is the kisser in the family, not that I don't know how to lay one on every once in a while. But we have a kissing family. Our kids love kisses. They need at least two, not too close together minutely speaking, and usually more are appreciated. "Kiss, kiss!" is a common refrain at our house. Bedtime, work time, date time, school time, any leaving time by anyone. And Matt is our go to guy.
He loves giving the fore mentioned kisses. He keeps us all smooched up. And he's not above a little kiss up when in need. He kisses hurts, tummies,babies and even hurt egos. Which makes for a very loved family. He's good that way.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Role #4 Strong hands
My husband is the pair of strong hands that gets things done in our house. Yes, he opens stuck jars for me. He carries heavy boxes for me (especially my Christmas boxes). He even brings in the groceries when I really hint loudly.
But his hands do other strong things too. He gives a child a pull up off the ground from her latest spill. He saves another child from certain death by squishing that scary spider. He shovels snow for a neighbor, or weeds hundreds of dandelions that are polluting our lawn (or were, anyway).
His strong hands found just the right place (up a little, no down, to the right more, now harder!) to push the pain out of my back during labor for our sweet little Charity. He held me, carried my bag, drew me out of the car, brought drinks, and probably wrung his hands just a bit as he supported my choice for an unmedicated birth.
His strong hands know how to be gentle, too. They gently cradled our newborn girl as she emerged into the bright light of life. They hesitantly hand me a hungry baby late in the night, after letting me sleep just a little longer. They hold, caress, change dirty diapers, and nurture.
They brush kiddie teeth, wipe pint-sized tears, even brush little girl hair when occasion calls on him.
His hands will fasten a delicate necklace, I just can't get. And his hands will intertwine with mine and fasten my love securely in his heart.
His hands can do many things, from fly over piano keys to enliven sweet music to hold tightly to red rock as he scales a tantalizing crack in a sandstone fin, and I love the notes and love essays that his hands produce. But the best and truest strength of his hands is used each day with his family. He holds close to God, and holds us tight to him which keeps us in a warm, eternal embrace that will keep us safe forever.
But his hands do other strong things too. He gives a child a pull up off the ground from her latest spill. He saves another child from certain death by squishing that scary spider. He shovels snow for a neighbor, or weeds hundreds of dandelions that are polluting our lawn (or were, anyway).
His strong hands found just the right place (up a little, no down, to the right more, now harder!) to push the pain out of my back during labor for our sweet little Charity. He held me, carried my bag, drew me out of the car, brought drinks, and probably wrung his hands just a bit as he supported my choice for an unmedicated birth.
His strong hands know how to be gentle, too. They gently cradled our newborn girl as she emerged into the bright light of life. They hesitantly hand me a hungry baby late in the night, after letting me sleep just a little longer. They hold, caress, change dirty diapers, and nurture.
They brush kiddie teeth, wipe pint-sized tears, even brush little girl hair when occasion calls on him.
His hands will fasten a delicate necklace, I just can't get. And his hands will intertwine with mine and fasten my love securely in his heart.
His hands can do many things, from fly over piano keys to enliven sweet music to hold tightly to red rock as he scales a tantalizing crack in a sandstone fin, and I love the notes and love essays that his hands produce. But the best and truest strength of his hands is used each day with his family. He holds close to God, and holds us tight to him which keeps us in a warm, eternal embrace that will keep us safe forever.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Role #3 Eternal Employee
In my earlier years, I was employed for a variety of companies, each of whom felt it necessary to put a spin on the word employee. Either I was a team member or an associate or my personal favorite, a sandwich artist. But the truth is, each time I was most definitely, an employee. I worked my allotted hours, collected my pay, and left.
As my job switched from employee to family gal, I took on more of a boss persona. I was, after all, the only one at home for most of the day that could make important decisions, plan for important activities, or walk or talk. Somewhere along the line, I even started to fire my husband occasionally. He'd be loading the dishwasher all wrong with the bowls where the plates went or the knifes pointing up waiting to stab me and I'd look at him politely and declare "you're fired." I'd take over the job at that point. This went on for years, really. "You're fired" was a fairly common refrain early in our marriage.
But over the last year or two, I guess I've stopped firing him so often. Because last night when he plopped our two sons in the bath and left for some personal time while they "nicely" played in the bath, I revisited that very effective refrain to his delighted surprise. The boys were pouring water on the floor, splashing water on each other, yelling for this parent or that, and screaming with abandon. I, who was nursing some sweet contractions, hoping baby #5 would decide to make an entrance, sat uncomfortably on the couch watching a valuable nature show on raptors. The screaming induced me to my feet into the bathroom a couple times to enforce, um, encourage some diplomacy between the two boys until daddy could come and lean over the cold, hard bathtub and wash the two hooligans.
The third time I had to go storming into the bathroom, I called out to Matt "You're fired!" "I'm coming, just a second," he quickly replied. But I was there. So I positioned my big tummy somewhere kind of comfortable and washed those two boys. He arrived soon after and swooped the clean, but wet boys away to their pjs and beds. I assumed the proper position of laziness on the couch. Matt came smiling to me later and told me that he hadn't been fired for a long time. He had mixed feelings about it. He kind of liked being fired; it brought back some fun memories and feelings, yet he knew that he was in some amount of trouble and that he should probably feel a little sheepish.
I got to thinking about why I hadn't fired Matt in so long. First, I thought "he's getting to be a better employee." He is more helpful, does his duties with precision, offers to help others, and knows his place. Wow, I'd done a great job training him, I realized. But the longer I thought about it, the more I realized that he really hadn't changed too much. Perhaps he was always the same proficient employee, but I was just realizing that instead of being just your average employee, he was a very valuable, and in fact, an eternal employee. After all, when I fired him, he never left, he just came back stronger and more reliable.
Then I realized that I was just getting smarter, not him. I was a smarter boss. Why fire your star employee, the one that is equally willing to sweep the floors, restock the shelves, handle the cleaning of the product (kids in our case), bring in the needed revenue, be the Chief Information Systems Officer and more. He was everything to this little venture we call a family. He was no simple employee, he was owner and operator, cheerleader and coach. He is the heart of this family.
I'm so glad that I have such a dedicated partner. Our little family just wouldn't run as smoothly without him. In fact, I'm inclined to say that we would have folded long ago without him. He is the heart of our little operation, the best, most wonderful eternal employee I've ever seen.
Next time I'll think twice before I fire him. And then, I'll probably give him a raise.
As my job switched from employee to family gal, I took on more of a boss persona. I was, after all, the only one at home for most of the day that could make important decisions, plan for important activities, or walk or talk. Somewhere along the line, I even started to fire my husband occasionally. He'd be loading the dishwasher all wrong with the bowls where the plates went or the knifes pointing up waiting to stab me and I'd look at him politely and declare "you're fired." I'd take over the job at that point. This went on for years, really. "You're fired" was a fairly common refrain early in our marriage.
But over the last year or two, I guess I've stopped firing him so often. Because last night when he plopped our two sons in the bath and left for some personal time while they "nicely" played in the bath, I revisited that very effective refrain to his delighted surprise. The boys were pouring water on the floor, splashing water on each other, yelling for this parent or that, and screaming with abandon. I, who was nursing some sweet contractions, hoping baby #5 would decide to make an entrance, sat uncomfortably on the couch watching a valuable nature show on raptors. The screaming induced me to my feet into the bathroom a couple times to enforce, um, encourage some diplomacy between the two boys until daddy could come and lean over the cold, hard bathtub and wash the two hooligans.
The third time I had to go storming into the bathroom, I called out to Matt "You're fired!" "I'm coming, just a second," he quickly replied. But I was there. So I positioned my big tummy somewhere kind of comfortable and washed those two boys. He arrived soon after and swooped the clean, but wet boys away to their pjs and beds. I assumed the proper position of laziness on the couch. Matt came smiling to me later and told me that he hadn't been fired for a long time. He had mixed feelings about it. He kind of liked being fired; it brought back some fun memories and feelings, yet he knew that he was in some amount of trouble and that he should probably feel a little sheepish.
I got to thinking about why I hadn't fired Matt in so long. First, I thought "he's getting to be a better employee." He is more helpful, does his duties with precision, offers to help others, and knows his place. Wow, I'd done a great job training him, I realized. But the longer I thought about it, the more I realized that he really hadn't changed too much. Perhaps he was always the same proficient employee, but I was just realizing that instead of being just your average employee, he was a very valuable, and in fact, an eternal employee. After all, when I fired him, he never left, he just came back stronger and more reliable.
Then I realized that I was just getting smarter, not him. I was a smarter boss. Why fire your star employee, the one that is equally willing to sweep the floors, restock the shelves, handle the cleaning of the product (kids in our case), bring in the needed revenue, be the Chief Information Systems Officer and more. He was everything to this little venture we call a family. He was no simple employee, he was owner and operator, cheerleader and coach. He is the heart of this family.
I'm so glad that I have such a dedicated partner. Our little family just wouldn't run as smoothly without him. In fact, I'm inclined to say that we would have folded long ago without him. He is the heart of our little operation, the best, most wonderful eternal employee I've ever seen.
Next time I'll think twice before I fire him. And then, I'll probably give him a raise.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Role #2 Superhero
There is a certain little boy in our home who is rather taken with super heroes. After careful consideration, he has determined that Spiderman is the best. He can climb buildings, spin webs to catch stuff and is a good guy. This favored status resulted in our little guy being Spiderman for Halloween, two years in a row.
The thing that he doesn't realize is that we have our own superhero in our home. He lives under a great disguise, a smart, unassuming computer programmer that loves his family and takes great care of them. But I'm going to let you in on some of his secrets.
He doesn't fly, but he can make children fly! In fact, each night he transforms our youngest into Super Baby! Super Baby flies all over the house bestowing magical kisses on people and filling us all with joy. Now that is a super power.
Our own hidden super hero can also morph. He regularly changes from a ride giving horse, to a dinosaur daddy, to a tickle monster that causes tortured laughing to erupt until just the moment when his victims are about to give in and give out.
Our super hero can make things reappear out of thin air. His specialty is smiles. He can turn a frown to a grin in seconds flat with his secret laser beam trick frown and wailing moan of terror (which surprisingly produces laughs more often than not).
Our super hero regularly rescues fair maidens from distress, well at least one maiden daily. He rescues her from screaming kids, hurtling objects (often found to be toddler super heroes thrown into a dangerous vortex or ramming dinosaurs), broken backs bending over baths, and eyes that sometimes leak uncontrollably for no reason at all.
When our super hero is about, our home is a happy and safe refuge from evil and unhappiness. What luck that we have someone with a secret identity. I hope someday our little super heroes in training will discover their own super identity which no doubt was passed on to them. I see the signs already--trying to leap over great buildings in one jump, trying to make a bed in 2 seconds flat and giving out love in nanoseconds with kisses and hugs powered by super love. I'd have to say we are super lucky!
The thing that he doesn't realize is that we have our own superhero in our home. He lives under a great disguise, a smart, unassuming computer programmer that loves his family and takes great care of them. But I'm going to let you in on some of his secrets.
He doesn't fly, but he can make children fly! In fact, each night he transforms our youngest into Super Baby! Super Baby flies all over the house bestowing magical kisses on people and filling us all with joy. Now that is a super power.
Our own hidden super hero can also morph. He regularly changes from a ride giving horse, to a dinosaur daddy, to a tickle monster that causes tortured laughing to erupt until just the moment when his victims are about to give in and give out.
Our super hero can make things reappear out of thin air. His specialty is smiles. He can turn a frown to a grin in seconds flat with his secret laser beam trick frown and wailing moan of terror (which surprisingly produces laughs more often than not).
Our super hero regularly rescues fair maidens from distress, well at least one maiden daily. He rescues her from screaming kids, hurtling objects (often found to be toddler super heroes thrown into a dangerous vortex or ramming dinosaurs), broken backs bending over baths, and eyes that sometimes leak uncontrollably for no reason at all.
When our super hero is about, our home is a happy and safe refuge from evil and unhappiness. What luck that we have someone with a secret identity. I hope someday our little super heroes in training will discover their own super identity which no doubt was passed on to them. I see the signs already--trying to leap over great buildings in one jump, trying to make a bed in 2 seconds flat and giving out love in nanoseconds with kisses and hugs powered by super love. I'd have to say we are super lucky!
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Husband Role #1 - Lover
My husband is a lover. Yes, by that I mean my own personal lover, but also and more importantly, he is a lover of many things. Shall I list them for you?
He loves
-God
-me
-our 4 children
-our unborn daughter
-his family
-my family
-our church
-his church friends
-his neighbors (real and in the Biblical sense)
-Arches
He loves many more things, but those will all be chronicalled here in time.
He loves with all his heart. He gives all he has for the people that he loves. Understanding how loving can change a person, you understand what a person he is. He prays for people he has met just once or twice to be cured from cancer. He spends nights playing mindless games (Candyland anyone?) with our kids. He puts kids to bed while he sends me off to a hot bath. He gives hours and hours to serve in the church doing what he can to love God and the people he worships with.
I am lucky to be one of the things he loves. I feel it in the mornings when he gets up early to prepare a Valentine breakfast of pink heart pancakes for me and the kids. I feel it while he's gone working hard so I can stay home to raise our family and he calls to say hello and that he loves me. I feel it when he arrives home with a big smile and kiss and arms full of either flowers, or eggs, or willingness to make the salad for dinner. I feel it as we clean up dinner and pause for a dance in the kitchen. I feel it when he bathes our kids so my tired pregnant back can sit and rest. I feel it when the kids are in bed and he asks what I want to do together. I feel it in his warm embrace many times each day.
I am lucky to feel his love, and my hope is that you too feel someone's love and the joy that it brings. And let's all pledge to be a lover, to make someone else feel the life-giving and life-saving power that is love.
He loves
-God
-me
-our 4 children
-our unborn daughter
-his family
-my family
-our church
-his church friends
-his neighbors (real and in the Biblical sense)
-Arches
He loves many more things, but those will all be chronicalled here in time.
He loves with all his heart. He gives all he has for the people that he loves. Understanding how loving can change a person, you understand what a person he is. He prays for people he has met just once or twice to be cured from cancer. He spends nights playing mindless games (Candyland anyone?) with our kids. He puts kids to bed while he sends me off to a hot bath. He gives hours and hours to serve in the church doing what he can to love God and the people he worships with.
I am lucky to be one of the things he loves. I feel it in the mornings when he gets up early to prepare a Valentine breakfast of pink heart pancakes for me and the kids. I feel it while he's gone working hard so I can stay home to raise our family and he calls to say hello and that he loves me. I feel it when he arrives home with a big smile and kiss and arms full of either flowers, or eggs, or willingness to make the salad for dinner. I feel it as we clean up dinner and pause for a dance in the kitchen. I feel it when he bathes our kids so my tired pregnant back can sit and rest. I feel it when the kids are in bed and he asks what I want to do together. I feel it in his warm embrace many times each day.
I am lucky to feel his love, and my hope is that you too feel someone's love and the joy that it brings. And let's all pledge to be a lover, to make someone else feel the life-giving and life-saving power that is love.
My Husband Roles
My husband never has been a rocker or a roller for that matter. But he is so many more things. He is a husband, a father, a friend, a son, a man. There are so many roles that he fills that make the world a better place, certainly for me and my kids, for our families, for people that know him and people that don't.
This blog is my attempt to share with you and, most importantly, with him the many roles he fills in my life and how they all make life sweet and beautiful beyond words.
This blog is my attempt to share with you and, most importantly, with him the many roles he fills in my life and how they all make life sweet and beautiful beyond words.
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