Just Telling Our Story

Three Things

My husband recently initiated what has quickly become a favorite (albeit short-term) tradition around here: Three Things. Every night, when we tuck the kids into bed, we share three things we liked about each of them. Then after they're in bed, Chad and I share three things we appreciate about each other. Sometimes they're specific to the day's events, and sometimes they're just general things we like or appreciate for the day.

In the past week or so, both my son (age 8) and daughter (age 5) have started adding their own "Three Things" to the nighttime ritual, sharing things they like about us, too. (We share these things privately - just one kid and one parent at a time.)

The kids have really liked this. They look forward to our nightly Three Things. Our daughter has even gotten teary-eyed when she had to go to bed when I wasn't home recently. The next morning, she needed her Three Things bright and early.

Anyway, tonight, after I shared my Three Things with my sweet little girl, she shared her Three Things about me:

1. "I like that you love me."
2. "That you fill my heart in." (She made a little heart with her hands. Melt my heart.)
3. "That you fill my bucket." (Something the guidance counselor at her school has been teaching the kids this week -- to be "bucket-fillers" instead of dipping people's buckets.)

I gave her a huge hug. She made my day.

And then there's my all-boy son. After giving him his Three Things for the day, he took my hand and pulled my face close to his. I thought he was going to kiss me on the cheek, although that would admittedly have been a rare occurrence on its own. Nope. He pulled me in, put his face next to mine...and belched in my ear.

Through the eyes of a child

(Gasp! I'm actually posting something to my long-lost blog!)

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Last night, as the evening was winding down, our daughter set off to get creating, one of her favorite things to do. She absolutely loves drawing cards for us, and her little creations are some of my favorite treasures right now.

After a while, she brought two cards into our bedroom to show me.

Here's the first.

That would be her daddy, my husband, stretched out on the living room floor, in his black running shorts and a green shirt, his glasses on, a little facial hair growing in, with a pillow tucked under his head, his right arm stretched out before him holding a remote control and our remaining remote controls placed side-by-side within reach.

It's a pretty darn accurate drawing, I must say. She doesn't miss any details.

And then, several minutes later, she brought me a second drawing. This time, it was of me.

And that would be me standing by our black, metal, short-post bed in our bedroom, with a huge pile of laundry in a laundry basket to my left, the TV perched atop our dresser in the top left corner, my nightstand with lamp and alarm clock and weather radio at top right and me folding my bluish-purple pajamas in the center.

Dead on.

I love her artwork.

But what's extra funny about these pictures is how Chad and I are portrayed: Daddy watching TV while Mommy does the housework. Honestly, it's not always the way it is around here. Chad definitely pulls his weight, and we share housework and most responsibilities, besides cooking. But he wins in that corner; he cooks dinner almost every night. Still, it's funny to me just the same.