For me, as a stay-at-homer, our home is my domain, my protectorate. . . my nest. I happen to like stainless steel and abhor chintz, but I define for our family what is "home." I always pictured myself as the robin with Boo, my beakie, raising him for the day he will fly off alone. My nest, my realm of responsibility, goes beyond my house proper, and involves everything to keep Boo healthy, happy, safe and successful which has not been typical, natural or normal. And for me, momming has been harder than for some. Now that Boo's 7, at the cusp of boyhood, emotionally healed, it's only recently I've been able to look up to get a better, focused look around my nest.
And I wondered, where is the daddy robin? Is he just flying back and forth, merely bringing home the berries?
What have I been doing to keep my HH healthy, happy, safe and successful? What have I been doing to make the nest sweeter and softer for him? The answer I came up with: not enough. I tuck my yellow bill under my wing in shame. I have been doing the bare minimum to keep the house running for him, but not much more. Since then, I've made a point to do the following:
- stop and smile when he comes home from work
- wait to tell him of my day's trials
- have his laundry ready
- rub his shoulders more
- massage his forehead more
- pull myself off this dang computer to sit and read in bed with him more
It's not a lot, in one sense. It's not that I've merely made more room in my nest, but I have made more room in my heart: sweeter and softer for him.
How about you? Have you been nurturing your husband with the care you nurture your child(ren)?