The Kids Are Home
They went to Reelfoot Lake with their father to watch the eagles. They had a great time, and are full of stories …. though I heard more about the dead beaver than I did about the bald eagles.
I’m not sure how my older son is handling this crazy week. Both of them are excited about getting the house spruced up, and about fixing the ugly and broken things all around us. He got weepy several times this evening as he discovered things “missing” in the house. I think the toughest one for him was when he couldn’t find the boom box that is usually in their bedroom for playing nature sounds and audio-books while they are drifting off to sleep. I reassured him that it was simply packed away, and that we had a way to give them their bed-time amusements. But he looked skeptical about it.
And he’s been unusually clingy. This is my “I’m the man of the house and I don’t want your hugs and kisses” macho man. Yet he sat in my lap throughout SuperNanny tonight, with his arms wrapped around my neck and his cheek pressed against mine. (It was nice. I don’t get much affection from this little growny-boy.)
He is very proud of himself. My dad did some electrical work at my house over the weekend, in one case moving a light switch out of the attic and into the downstairs hallway. We didn’t have a double switch-plate to cover the new outlet, so Dad sent one home with us tonight. He gave it to Number One Son and told him to screw it on when we got home. He explained how to tighten the screw gently, and not to make it too tight. I forgot about it until he came into my bedroom with the screwdriver, beaming, with a grin splitting his face in half, and announced, “I fixed your switch, Mom.” He’d done it exactly like Dad told him to, too. He was SO proud. And I told him that I was very proud of him.
Now I just have to help him cope with the craziness in our lives at the moment.