Good Love

Noah (short for Ashunoah...you'll never learn if I keep reminding you, though, will you?) was late getting off for work this morning. Again. He tends to run late and I've become used to it by now. He must have said 'goodbye' three times before he actually left the house. He went into the boys' room twice...once to say 'good morning' and to to tickle (or something...I heard Obi giggling), then once more to say 'goodbye'. From their room, he headed directly out the door, after telling me goodbye once more.

I was in the kitchen and as I passed through the dining room on my way upstairs, I noticed a small bag in the corner. Hmph! His lunch! He'd forgotten it: chicken parmigiana (sp?) over whole wheat spaghetti with a breadstick and applesauce (don't ask me why I do spaghetti with applesauce...I think it's the salty and the sweet, but I digress). I called his cell, half expecting him to answer, thinking he might have already arrived at his first service call. Surprisingly, though, he answered.

"You forgot your lunch!" I begin.
"Oh no! That's right, I put it right there where I was supposed to see it!"
"Yeah, but you were supposed to come back into the dining room to see it, but you went straight from the boys' room right out the door."
"Dangit!"
"I know...you'll just have to grab something else".
"I know, because I won't even be in the area. I've got service calls way out today."
"That's okay. You can take it tomorrow. Just grab something for today."
"Okay..dang. I was looking forward to that yummy goodness, though."
"Yeah...and your lunch, too."

We both laugh. This time I beat him to the punch line. We do this sort of thing quite often.

"Alright then...that's what I was calling for," I say, smiling.
"Sweet thing! I love you so very much."
"I love you so, so much."

We hang up and I just had my first dose of humor for the day. I need it, too. Lately I've been something of a grump, though I've tried to hide it. I think I'm dealing with internal issues --- my father's death, plus re-examining my values and a few other yada, yada, yada issues. But I do get a lot of joy from my marriage and from being a homemaker and from being the one to whom everyone looks (even our dog) for food and nourishment -- physical as well as spiritual and emotional. I feel like I'm in the right place, doing the right thing --- doing the thing I was meant and called to do. And I take a lot of satisfaction in that. I was never the corporate climber type. I was never the feminist type. I told Noah once that I wanted to be a 'kept woman'...okay, so that may be a little extreme, but I do like not having to worry about the bills and how they will be paid; I like not having to worry about the insulation of the house, how the lawnmower is acting up, or having to think of the responsibility of financially providing for a whole household of folks. I realize there are a lot of women who do this well, and I believe that I could too, if I had to. But I like just being the nurturer, just being the supporter, just being the helper. I really love my place in the home, and I'm thankful (so thankful), I get to be home with my boys. It's such a privilege and honor --- even if I'm fussing at them, spanking behinds, cleaning up vomit, doing loads of laundry and constantly trying to keep the house clean, organized and liveable. This is a tough job -- 12 hour days, then on-call after that, no vacations, no paid time off, no holidays, (I even have to work on Sundays!) --- but somebody's got to do it. And I'm happy that God picked me for this.

Enjoy your day, beloved...