As Heard Last Night, vol. 17

As I was tucking my boy into bed last night, his thoughts turned to girls.  Well, one specific girl to be exact... His wife.  I was a little shocked because my boy is still a card-carrying member of the "girls are gross and weird" club.  

Our conversation is below:

The boy:  Mama, I'm worried about my wife.
Me:  Your wife?  You're only ten, why are you worried about that?
The boy:  What if she can't cook or doesn't like to eat interesting things?  You know how much I like good food.  
Me:  Yes, I know. 
The boy:  What if her parents don't like me?
Me:  Oh, buddy.  They will like you.  How could they possibly not?
The boy:  What if she doesn't know how to tickle my arm just right or is terrible at scratching my back?  What if she hates music and doesn't like it that I play drums.
Me:  I can see you are really concerned about this stuff.  What brought this up?
The boy:  I don't know.  I just started thinking about it and got worried.  Would you pray about it?

And so I did.  

I prayed for a wife that is a good cook and an adventurous eater.  I prayed that her family would adore my boy and treat him just like he was their own.  I prayed that her back scratching skills would be the envy of everyone.  And most of all, I prayed that she would love my boy just the way that he is... drumming and all.  

Pocket Hearts

© shoutingforha

My sister is the proud mama to three beautiful little kids, two girls and a boy.  In addition to taking care of her brood and running her household, she works full time.  I honestly don't know how she manages to get it all done.  I know that I wouldn't last a minute in her shoes.

© shoutingforha

Her oldest daughter is an independent first grader that is overflowing with boundless energy, never runs out of things to talk about, is deeply thoughtful and loves to be creative.  The wee man of the house is only sixteen months old.  Although he is learning to talk and races around like a maniac, he still requires a lot of attention as all tiny people do.  

© shoutingforha

The middle child, my niece, well... She reminds me of my boy.  She is silly, talkative, feisty and, at times, highly emotional.  She also has this incredibly tender side that loves to snuggle and longs to be near the people she loves every moment of every day.  Needless to say, she has been having a hard time when her beloved mommy heads off to work.

© shoutingforha

My sister and I were discussing this situation last week (she always calls me during her commute home).  Her desire was to find some way to remind her sweet little girl how much she loves her even when they can't be together.  

I suggested a jar of pocket hearts.  

© shoutingforha

I had remembered seeing the cute little felt hearts in one of our local shops several years ago, although I cannot remember where. The hearts can be tucked into a pocket within easy reach should a child need a little reminder of their parent's love.  I thought they would be perfect for my niece.  

© shoutingforha

My sister loved the idea, but since she works harder than anyone else I know, I offered to do all the crafting myself.  To make the pocket hearts, I cut hearts out of different colors of felt, stuffed them with a little bit of polyfill and used embroidery floss and a simple blanket stitch to seal the edges. 

© shoutingforha

The hearts are so easy to make that I decided to give my sister an entire jar full.  With three kids, it's only a matter of time before a few disappear like so many socks in the laundry.  Besides, sharing is highly overrated.

***  UPDATE:  A friend told me that Curly Birds recently did a post on pocket hearts over at her blog.  Stop by and check them out.

Meaning From the Mundane

I pick up my hubby's wet towel off the bathroom counter and hang it on the hook to dry.  
I make the bed so that our room will look nice and neat. 
I wipe drips of toothpaste out of the bathroom sink.
I fill a water bottle and pack a lunch for my boy to take to school.
I vacuum tufts of Brick's hair off the rug.  
I fold another load of laundry and put it away.  
I carry my boy's discarded shoes back to his room.
I make another trip to the grocery store to restock the refrigerator and pantry with food. 
I feed Brick and refill his water jug.
I mend holes in favorite shirts and replace missing buttons. 
I scrub the toilets until they sparkle.
I plug my boy's iPod into the charger so it's ready if he wants to listen to music.
I wash the dirty dishes that are piled high in the sink. 

These are just a few things on the a never-ending list of things I do on any given day.  I'm sure you have a similar list.  While sometimes these duties become monotonous, I am learning to view all of these things as an act of service...  A way to show love.

Who says that the only way to show someone you care is by a grand or extravagant gesture?  What about a closet full of pressed shirts, a home-cooked meal or simply running an errand for your spouse? 

In this new year, I'm trying to focus on all of the little things that I can do to show my husband and son that I care.  Yes, they may not always notice or thank me for all of the little things I do, but that doesn't matter.  I'll do it anyway.

And while I'm wiping up the dribbles around the toilet from my boy's wayward stream or picking up my hubby's towel for the tenth day in a row, I will give thanks for the husband and child who have so blessed my life.

~~~~~

I am linking up with Just Write today.  Stop by Heather's blog to read other posts or to add your own.

One Thousand Gifts (773-784)

773.  Waxed paper hearts hanging under my boy's loft bed. 
774.  The heated seats in my hubby's car.  Nothing feels better on a chilly morning drive.
775.  My giant blockhead of a dog sleeping with his head in my lap.  I think he would prefer to actually sit on top of me if it wouldn't nearly crush me to death.
776.  A sincere apology from a teacher who wounded my boy with her words.
777.  A mechanic who admits his mistake and then repairs our car for free.
778.  Falling asleep to the sound of rain tapping on the windows.
779.  My boy's excitement about his new drum teacher. 
780.  A bowl of homemade Matzah Ball soup on a cold winter day.
781.  Getting a set date night with my hubby on the calendar.
782.  Crushing my boy's high score on Temple Run.  He beats me at pretty much everything, so even the smallest victories are cause for celebration. 
783.  Driving around in a clean car.
784.  Baby back ribs smoked on the grill. 

For more lists of gratitude, head over to

Cooking Conversions | Chasing Delicious

Learning to Sit Alone, in a Quiet Empty Room | zenhabits

Citrus Salt | 101 Cookbooks

Continuous Bias Tape Tutorial | No Big Dill 

Friendship Bracelets | the purl bee

As Heard Yesterday, vol. 2

I usually don't post anything on Saturday, but thought I would make an exception to share this little tidbit of crazy talk by my boy.  Happy weekend everyone!

Me:  So what have you been learning in school this week?
The boy:  Stuff about Woodrow Wilson, World War I and labor unions.  Yesterday we talked about ladies like Susan B. Anthony and how the war affected the Women's Suffering Movement.
Me: Do you mean the Women's Suffrage Movement?
The boy: Yes, yes!  That's it!