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Mr. Mom

April 11, 2011

I spent a delightful weekend at a Bed and Breakfast with a group of women from church.  When the retreat was planned months ago, I didn’t dare hope I would be able to leave the twins and yet unweaned Miss P for two whole nights, but Dan insisted it would be no problem and encouraged me to have a great time and not to worry about a thing.  (In fact, he only called me once to ask where the Desitin was and then hung up as soon as I answered lest the mention of Desitin send me into a tailspin of worry about Miss P’s pink bottom.)  We got a call Friday from our realtor that a showing was scheduled for Saturday morning. Still Dan insisted it would be no problem, he could get the house cleaned and the children out in time.

I did not leave in the best of standing.  Having recently read that children should now recline in rear facing carseats until they are forty pounds (which might mean that Elisabeth – who is at this time only 25 pounds – may be climbing into her rear facing carseat in junior high), I convinced Dan to spend the afternoon taking carseats out and putting them back in backwards. The few times in our marriage I have seen Dan get grumpy all involved carseat installation. This was one of those times. I did not help matters with my endless list of things for Dan to do to ready the house for the showing (basically just erase all evidence that we ever existed). Still Dan graciously insisted that I go and have a good time and not worry about a thing.

When I called Saturday night to see how things were going, Dan casually mentioned that he’d have to get up a little early to get all three dressed up as he was taking them to a church that supports Hope Academy where he was scheduled to speak at two services.  I am praying/trying so hard not to micromanage so I tried to sound cool and casual asking, “Oh, really?  Well, I’m sure that will be fun for you. Do you need any suggestions about their church clothes?” He did not.

I arrived home today to find this:

Three clean, beautifully dressed, happy children.  And this:

A spotless house.  And Dan, with nothing but a slight sheen of sweat on his brow to indicate that the weekend had been anything other than ordinary.

And how did this make me feel?  To be honest: NOT GREAT.  I was expecting (and I guess kind of hoping) that Dan would fall into my arms with a sigh of relief.  I imagined him telling me how everything fell apart without me and he doesn’t know how I do it every day.  One of my friends who I will not name consoled me with the idea that when her husband has been alone with the children and she asks how things went and he says, “Oh it was so easy,” it is like when you ask a student that you know is not very bright how the test was and they say “piece of cake” and you know there must’ve been quite a bit that they missed.  This is some consolation to me, but if Dan missed anything I sure can’t tell.

3 Comments leave one →
  1. Mary Olson permalink
    April 11, 2011 4:22 am

    Dan, I am humming Mr. Roger’s “I’m Proud of You,” song!
    And Lucy, so glad you could get away. It’s easier for a relief player to step in if he is well trained and the team is well-managed 🙂 love ya’ll.

  2. Suz permalink
    April 11, 2011 2:54 pm

    Lucy, to your credit, you married well!! =) Good job, Dan!!

  3. Lisa permalink
    April 12, 2011 2:34 am

    that is the same feeling I have about bed rest – meaning, how in the world has our little world not completely imploded without me being able to get out of bed?!

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