Blessed Beyond Measure

As we begin to blend our lives together, the kids and I have been spending more time at Someone Special's house (I need to think up a good nickname for him....hhhmmm) in order for them to feel comfortable there. Last night we went over so I could give the kitchen a test run i.e. cook dinner. After we all sat down at the table, I realized I had forgotten the kids' sippy cups in the kitchen and jumped up to get them. When I came back, Someone Special was saying, "Now what do you tell Mommy?" to which a three little voices replied in turn, "Thank you for cooking dinner, Mommy."

I think my heart grew three sizes that day.

I remember when I was a child, my brothers and I all had to thank our mother for cooking dinner every single night. My dad was a strict enforcer of this policy. Sometimes, my thanks would be very genuine (if I liked the meal she had cooked), and sometimes it was a rote reply, uttered only to avoid the wrath of Dad. But it impressed a couple of things upon me. First, it taught me that when people do something for you, they deserve to be thanked no matter what. Second, it taught me that Mom cooking and caring for me was a blessing, and that I should not take that for granted.  More specifically, it was her job to care for me, yes, but it was my job to not only feel appreciation for her, but to verbalize it, and that I was out of line if I just expected her to do it for me. A good mother is a blessing beyond measure, and I was damn lucky to have such a fine one. I didn't come to that realization on my own: my father taught me to recognize it. And it started first with him saying himself, "That sure was a good meal, honey. Thank you" and followed with, "Kids, what do you tell your mother?" Even though I could not realize it at the time, watching my father love and appreciate my mother defined the parameters of not just my own marriage, but my friendships and work relationships, and my relationships with my children, too.

Someone Special and I have not had a conversation about how important I think it is for children to be made to say "thank you" to their mother when she cares for them. To hear those words come out of their mouths, without me having to first lay out the rules for him to follow, makes me feel important and special and thought about in a way that I haven't ever experienced  before. These are the little things that you can't fake. These are the little things that you either get, or are oblivious to. That make us in sync. That make him my best friend. That make him a real man, and that make me blessed beyond measure all over again.