My plan this evening was to do a wrap up of a most fabulous weekend spent with friends. I was going to enthusiastically describe the doubling of our household occupancy and late nights sprawled out in the living room talking until our red eyes burned forcing us to call it a night. Rather than words flowing from my brain to my fingers to the keyboard to the screen, though, I’ve been stuck staring at a blank screen. . .for more than an hour.
I’m stuck on a conversation we had with Charlie tonight. Turns out that there is a playground bully at school. What?! He’s in Kindergarten. . . already? I’m pretty sure that my heart gained ten pounds tonight as I imagined my little guy having to face the thrown rocks and nasty behavior of a child who is not so kind to the other children. To be honest, I’m holding myself back from driving there right at this moment, sitting on top of the slide and waiting to confront the situation myself. Me and my pregnant belly could send a message, I’m sure.
Oh, I know these things will happen and I have no doubt that my guy will be just fine. Tender-hearted as he is–he is also very laid back and easy going. My desire, though, is to run, protect, and shield him from any darts that may come his way. Not practical. . . not healthy. . . I know.
These are the things you don’t think about when you are staring into the eyes of the newborn that just completely wrecked your world with it’s first breath of life. These are the things for which there are no manuals. These are the moments that you just kind of have to feel your way through. . . and hope that you handle it right. We talked with Charlie tonight in a different way than we have before. I felt it. . . and I think he did, too. Yes, there was a lump in my throat the entire time, but more than anything I hope he understood that we have his back. . . and we have confidence in him.
And if he didn’t get our message his sister made hers loud and clear. . . “Charlie, I’ll go to your school and beat him up.”
Yep, we think they kind of care for each other. . .
If I let myself think about it, I can be paralyzed with fear. Wanting them to protect them forever, but knowing that I can’t. So, I continue to pray that they will be confident and secure in who they are and that they will be surrounded by good people and solid friends.
Speaking of good people and solid friends. . . ahhh. . . the weekend.
We had visitors from out of state. It has been a year since we saw them face to face and in that time they have added another little one to their family. . .
I met Rachael during my last year of grad school and we clicked immediately. Despite the different directions we have traveled and the miles that separate us–we’ve remained close. It was quite cool when we realized our husbands get along, too. Having them in our home is almost as relaxing as not having anyone in our home. They carry with them an ease and a comfort that makes them feel like part of the fabric of everyday life. I think that is a gift. For example, I didn’t completely freak out when our oven broke the night before they came or when I realized that our house would be torn apart by workers at the same time of their arrival. They are just chill. . . which makes me chill.
Our weekends have been quite busy for months and for the first time in a long time the presence of this family helped us to just relax. Chad got to brush up on his baby holding skills and we enjoyed just being together.
That is good stuff. Oh, and of course Saturday was Sweetest Day so Chad made sure he honored me as his sweetest. . .
In all honesty, I couldn’t imagine a better way to spend a weekend. Late night conversations that flowed from the silly to the serious and early morning coffee talks that meandered from the trivial to the profound. . . it was a perfect combination. And even as I think about the conversation we had with Charlie this evening, I realize that he was in an atmosphere of good friends and healthy relationships all weekend long. It is my hope that he will settle for nothing less than what he sees in the healthy friendships we model for him.
I’m quite confident that he will get it.
And finally, the weekend ended with the special event of Charlie’s final soccer game. Game time was 8 p.m. (past his bedtime). It was dark. . .
It was cold. . .