Blessings

 

At first glance, one would think this picture is of a mess, not a blessing.

Well, it isn’t, this is a picture of a big fat blessing.

This summer the kids and I are keeping a journal of the blessing we see each day.  At first, I will be honest, I had a hard time seeing the little things that the Lord does for me each day, but as I started to look I really began to see His hand in my life everyday.

Then came a big blessing.

See all those clothes all over the living room, those are most of the contents of 14 boxes and two garbage bags of hand-me-downs from three different people.  There was something for everyone, excepting my oldest, and all of our “school shopping” is done.  A huge load off my mind, and our budget.

We weren’t able to use all the clothing, and we got rid of some of our older worn out clothing, those will be donated to a local thrift store.

I am so thankful for the generosity of those around me.

We are so blessed.

Clocks

I generally think women should be capable.

I don’t have a problem with division of labor and gender rolls in general.  Here at the “zoo” Dadzoo and I have our rolls, our division of labor.  Mostly it runs along traditional gender ideals.  I don’t work outside the home, Dadzoo does.  I mostly handle the day to day caring of the home and children, Dadzoo brings home the money and takes care of the more physical chores involving our home.  That is basically what we have done, and it works for us.  However, there have been times where one of us has had to take over for the other.  I have found that it makes things much easier if I am at least capable of doing Dadzoo’s “stuff” even if I am not proficient at it.  (As a side note, he does a much better job taking over for me, than I do in taking over for him).

For example, Dadzoo mows the lawn.  He always has, and has never expected me to do it, he would rather it wait a week than have me mow it.  In the 11 years we have had a lawn to mow I think I have done it two, maybe three times.  While it isn’t really my “job” and I don’t do as good of a job as he does, I am capable of staring up the mower and mowing the lawn.

However, in all my pride at being capable, I found myself bested by a clock.

Yep, a clock.

For the last week Dadzoo had been out of town.  He went to a (well, THE) Microsoft convention in Orlando and I stayed home to hold down the fort.  Typically in the summer I am a sleep late kind of gal, I like things to be slow and unscheduled.  Well, that isn’t working out so well so far.  Punk #1 has to be at the Jr. High at 8:00 for summer band, which means I have to get her up at 7:00 so we can be leave by 7:45.   (Yes the school is 15 minutes away, that means it is a 30 minute trip to drop her off).  Seven o’clock might not be early to some, but for me it is, in the summer I really try to stay in bed until at least 8:00, more if I can, but being the good mother I am (ahem) I will drag my behind out of bed so my oldest can play the flute.  Anyway… in order to make sure I am up by 7:00 I need to use the alarm, and the alarm isn’t my “role”, Dadzoo handles that.  It is on his side of the bed, he sets it every night and handles exactly how it is run.  Well, late Sunday night (in actuality Monday morning, after the zillionth time checking the door, windows, kids and every strange noise) I went to set the alarm for 7:00.  Blah!  In my bleary eyed tiredness, I couldn’t figure out how to change the time on the darn thing.  After, what felt like a good half hour, probably more like 5 minutes, I crawled into bed and just left it at its default time, 6:00 am.  Promptly at 6:00 it went off, and I hit the snooze button 6, yes SIX times, because heaven forbid I get out of bed before 7:00 on a summer morning.  Now, you would think the capable part of me would figure the darn clock out during the day when I was fresh and wide awake, but the uncapable part of me forgot until that night and so I once again went with the default time, and that is what I have been doing all week, waking up at 6:00 am and hitting snooze every 10 minutes for an hour.

Here’s to being capable!

I will be so glad when Dadzoo gets home and he can just wake me up at 7:00 and I won’t have to fiddle with than dang alarm clock.

Just Ask

I had a conversation several weeks ago with a lady at one of my punk’s soccer games.  She had asked when my due date was and I told her, adding that I am due three days before the kids go back to school, and that Dadzoo was going to take about 2 weeks off work so he could play “mommy” at all the back to school activities.

She then said “Oh wow, my husband would never do that, unless I ASKED him to,” with a very dramatic eye roll.

I had to pause for a second or two.

I then said, very casually “Oh, well Dadzoo (except I used his real name) is really willing to help, but I have to ask as well, he doesn’t know what I need unless I tell him what that is.”

We then chatted for a little bit and parted ways.

That conversation made me think, a lot.  Why do we (women) think that they (men) should be able to just sense what we need?  I wouldn’t be expected to go into work for Dadzoo, sit at his desk and just know what needed to be done.  How can I expect Dadzoo to just walk into the house and just know what needs to be done?  One could argue that if he has to step over toys to get to the couch that he should just know they need to be picked up, but then again he could argue that I should just know that e-mail is checked before the ticket queue at the office (which I don’t really know, I am just guessing).

It leaves me to wonder how much happier we would all be in our relationships if we could just give up the idea that our spouse should just know, and instead we just asked for what we needed?  For me personally, Dadzoo is always happy to do and be what I need, I just have to ask first.