Today Tom is 32. For his birthday celebration, he's taking the kids out for the day so I can clean. Yes, I know I'm not cleaning at the moment, but I'd been at for two straight hours and I needed a glass of water. Maybe a little lunch. I'm planning to bake his favorite cake later and give him the way cool (okay, only cool in Tom's world) birthday gift I got him. Yes, I'm married to a large child. He loves Transformers. And now T loves Transformers. And even Miss G loves Transformers. It's only a matter of time before Baby S does too.
But, despite its...um, I hesitate to call my own husband a dork (actually, that's not true, I do it all the time, but lovingly, you know), but despite its dorkiness, I love that he spends time sharing something he loves with our kids. He really talks to them, not just in parent-child ways, but in a way that respects them as people, as individuals. Honestly, I've learned a lot about communicating with them from Tom. I'm not the best communicator in the world (Tom hasn't even read this, but he's laughing at that understatement, trust me). I hate talking about feelings and crap. I bottle everything up inside until I eventually explode. Tom can articulate his feelings and spell them out even in extreme anger. Me, I get so mad I can't even string four letter words together.
Okay, Mama better get back to the cleaning before the gang comes home and messes it all up again.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment