Every Time My Period Comes, My Heart Gets Broken.

I didn’t want to believe it.  My period came on today after being almost four days late. I swore I was pregnant.  I had the signs of a pregnancy but didn’t want to take the test until my birthday.  I did want it to come, but then I didn’t.  I secretly hope that I could get pregnant or at least wanted to believe that my chances of having another baby haven’t sufficiently dropped since the age of 35.  I am two days away from turning 37 and according to science, my egg quality has dropped after the age of 35 and the chances of getting pregnant in any given month are about 10%.   That’s a little over half of the 25% I would of have in my twenties to early thirties.  Still, I held out hope that maybe, just maybe, my odds were slightly tilted to my favorite.  But it didn’t.  Aunt Flo teased her presents upon my panty liner with spotting the day before until I got up around twelve midnight to go to the bathroom, wipe myself, and found bright red blood on the toilet paper and blood in the toilet water. 
negative-pregnancy-test
I was heart broken.  I wasn’t trying to get pregnant, but my husband and I aren’t preventing it either.  It’s not that we don’t have children.  We have two boys, one is four and one is one in a half.  However, I would like to get a chance to have another baby.  I would like a chance to have a little girl.  Granted, there wasn’t a chance for me to get a girl, even if I got pregnant this time but it would still be a chance.  It would be a chance to know if I was still fertile; a chance to know if it’s possible to be a mother to a little girl.  I can see those chances dwindling as the months goes by.
I should be happy with the two boys I have and shouldn’t care about wanting a girl.  My boys keep me busy and when people see how rambunctious they are, they comment to me, ‘I see you have your hands full.’  I translated it as, “You don’t need another kid.  Your two children are enough.”  They are and they should be enough, but a part of me thinks I’m missing out on not having a little girl.  I see the bond that mothers and daughters have; the intimacy of sharing secrets that only they two can share, talking about girl stuff, having each other as a confidant and friend, talking about boys, etc.  I long for a bond that my mother and I share and still do when we get together and talk. It’s like talking to a best friend, knowing I can tell her anything… wishing I had a daughter to have that same camaraderie with.
I have friends that have daughters.  My comment to them is that it’s great they have a little girl that they can bond with.  I also comment how beautiful they are and I wish I had one.  The usual insensitive response is, ‘I’m glad I got my girl.’ It doesn’t matter if it’s their first try or fifth.  It’s a proud moment for a woman to give birth to a girl… their little mini me.  That may never be the case for me.
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As I’m turning 37, I’m starting to weigh the options of having another baby.  Wondering if I should take a chance that maybe, just maybe, God would bless me with a baby girl. Every time my period comes on, my heart gets broken. Reality is starting to set in that the older I get, the harder it is to become pregnant.  Even if I could get pregnant, it may not even be a girl so why put my body through higher risk and complication at birth because I selfishly want a little girl of my own?  It’s starting to make me look foolish.
I’m at a point where I don’t want my heart broken again.  Every month I have a period, my heart breaks because it’s telling me that I couldn’t get pregnant this month.  The reality is I am less fertile the older I get and I need to accept that, but I can’t keep thinking there’s still a possibility.  The only way I see to fix my delusional state of mind is to get a permanent fix on my birth control.  It may be time to get my tubes tied and come to the realization that my fertile days are nearly over.  At least when I see Aunt Flo every month, I know it’s not because I can’t get pregnant because I’m nearing infertility, it’s because I decided to stop letting my heart get broken and realize that the dream of having a little girl wasn’t met to be. Maybe it’s time to start living my life free of envy and start loving my life with my boy’s only family and realizing that they are all I need.
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The Real Boogie Man: The Family Child Predator

I remember when I was about eleven years old when I saw my mother’s estranged stepfather for the first time.  He was very nice and friendly and gave my sister and myself very affectionate hugs.  Then my mother’s stepfather went to hug my mother.  When he hugged my mother, my mother stood still with her arms folded with a fake smile and a deer in the headlights look on her face. She stood frozen like a manikin, unable to move. I didn’t understand then why she behaved that way and I thought it was odd that my mother didn’t hug her stepfather. 
The next couple of weeks after my mother saw her stepfather again, she started having night terrors.  As told by my father, in my mother’s sleep she would kick, swing her arms as if she was fighting someone, and jumping out of bed trying to run away.  Night terrors or “Sleep terrors” happens usually when some traumatic event happen in the waken life and they relive it in their sleep.  When my mother would awaken, she couldn’t remember her violent episode.
One day, my father called my sister and me downstairs because they wanted to talk to us.  I remember my father said that my mother has something to tell us.   “Go ahead. Tell them what you’ve told me,” I remember my father said to my mother.  It was apparent that my mother was crying and she blurred out, “I was molested.” 
“By whom,” my father asked. 
“By my stepfather,” my mother said as she started crying and whimpering. 
I started to tear up and I put my head down and felt hurt because my mother was hurting.  Although I was hurting, I didn’t quite understand what molestation was. “Was my mother raped as a child,” I thought to myself.  My father asked my mother what her stepfather done to her.  My mother explained that she was touched, fondled, and rubbed against and touched his penis but it never went inside her.  That day when she told us, my mother at the age of thirty three years old at the time, told her mother what happen to her years ago.  When my mother told her mother, her mother kicked her estranged husband out of her house.  Whether my grandmother let him back her house or not I don’t know but I know that my mother or my sister and I did not visit our grandmother’s house after that revelation for a very long time. 
My mother was molested at the age of three or four years old and it didn’t stop until at the age of twelve when she stood up for herself and told her abuser NO when he tried to touch her breast.  In my mother’s situation, her step father was physically abusive to her mother.  My mother’s stepfather and her mother were alcoholics.  My mother felt that she couldn’t go to her mother and tell her what was going on. Maybe my mother felt that her mother wouldn’t believe her.  Maybe she felt her stepfather would hurt her mother if she told. What ever the reason was, it must have been hurtful to feel that you can’t tell anyone that someone is hurting you.
Society tends to see child predators as some stranger that targets children where the fact is the majority of child predators are people that are very close in the child’s lives.
According to the child advocacy group Darkness to Light:
·Experts estimate that 1 in 10 children are sexually abused before their 18th birthday. This means that in any classroom or neighborhood full of children, there are children who are silently bearing the burden of sexual abuse.
·Youth are 2.5 times more likely to be raped than adults.
·About 35% of victims are 11 years old or younger.
·30% of children are abused by family members.
http://www.colorlines.com
We tend to give family members the benefit of the doubt and say to ourselves that,
“What they did was a mistake. Or He or she was young and didn’t mean it. Or the child must have led them on.”
And the child now an adult should just “Get over it.”  I bet if it was a stranger that molested their child and not family, they would want to kill them.  Why see this particular predator as the victim?  Why not out the person for being the filthy, disgusting, human being that they are?  What are the parents afraid of? Is it that the parents don’t want to feel guilty by being blind to the fact that they allowed their child to be molested by a family member and they did not see it? The affects of child sexual abuse stays with a person for the rest of their lives and the fact that their family members tell the person who was abused to “Get over it” is to help take the responsibility to protect their child away from them and to keep the burden on the true victim which is the abused child.
Oogie Boogie Man aka Child Predator
This reaction to the allegation of being sexually abused as a child is The Boogie Man in a lot of families because most of the time, the child doesn’t have the family support to back them up if one of the family members are doing something inappropriate to them.  The Boogie Man isn’t real and the parents tend to think that the child is making it up. The parent’s reactions are,
“You’re imagining that Uncle Bobby kissed your lips.  You’re sure it wasn’t your cheek?”
“You’re sure Grandpa didn’t try to zip you up to help you in the bathroom and accidentally touched your penis?”
“Jimmy wasn’t touching you vagina, he was just trying to wipe the ice cream off your pants while you were sitting on his lap right?” 
This so call “second guessing” the child doesn’t make him/her think you have their back when it comes to their comfort so they will keep quiet to avoid an argument and handle it the best way they know how even if it means enduring the abuse of their boogie man for years.
Parents need to let their children know that they can come to them no matter what without judgment.  If your child accuses someone of sexual abuse, don’t dismiss it, check it out.  There are three reasons why a child wouldn’t come forward if they are abuse: 1.) they think you wouldn’t believe them or 2.) they feel guilty and ashamed about what happen and 3.) telling you will hurt you and they don’t want to see you hurt.  Parents have to be clear and let their children know that no one comes above their child’s welfare and safety and you wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt them no matter who they are.
We as parents also need to take notice of our children body language around family members. Are they comfortable?  Do they try to move away?  If the child doesn’t want to be alone with the person, or sit on their laps, or even want to hug them; ask yourself why.  Don’t think that just because they are your father, mother, sister, brother, cousin that your children should show affection to them the way you would.  Just because your family member didn’t sexual abuse you, it doesn’t mean that they wouldn’t sexually abuse your child.
Although my mother’s boogie man died about a year ago, the pain of the abuse still lingers on inside her and she still have nightmares of him to this very day. Mostly likely, my mother’s abuser didn’t just abuse her; he probably abused other, too.  Just think about that.  If your family member sexual abused your child, they are sexually abusing others and if you don’t out them as the boogie men they are, you’re contributing to the abuse of other children as well. 
We need to stop hiding family child sexual abuse and bury it hoping the secret will die.  Child sexual abuse should never be buried; it should be dug up and exposing the people who hurt our children as the sick monsters they are.  If you out the predator in your family and your family hate you for it, so be it.  I rather be on an island alone with my child where it is safe than be around family who condones child predator behavior and my child feels uncomfortable and have nightmares of their boogie man for the rest of their lives.

Help end child sexual abuse by outing out this predator in your family and treat them as if they were a stranger who did this to your child. You are your child’s best advocate; protect them at every cost even if it means you never see your family ever again.

Stop Feminizing Your Sons! Masculine Boys Can Grow Up To Be Good Men Too.

I am a mother of two boys under the age of five.  I knew my life with boys would consist of non stop excitement with:  lifted toilet seats, play wresting, rowdy noises, playing with sticks and dirt, climbing trees, collections of trucks and cars, and the restless that the typical boy displays. My boys are a crazy bunch and although I don’t agree with their rowdiness, their obsession with cars, and their occasional “Woof Woof” chants, I learn to accept that these types of habits is what makes them masculine boys
                                            
On the other hand, there are mothers who try to feminize their sons.  They feminize their sons to the point where there are only feminine toys for the boy to play with, dress them in dresses, and imposing “girly” habits on them.  They make their son sit on the toilet seat to pee.  They have their sons grow their hairs long enough to the point that they love it when people mistake them for girls. They don’t allow aggressive play and steer their sons away from sports and force them into dance classes. There are even blogs tailor to “Feminizing boys.”  I thought to myself, “Seriously.  What is wrong with a boy being a boy?” 
Most of the consensus of this concept is to make the boy much more relatable and more sensitive to women and girls.  They also see the behavior of boys as barbaric and uncivilized.  These women feel that boys don’t need to be masculine or play with “masculine” things anymore and they should be calm, nurturing, and less aggressive like women because masculinity is no longer need in this society. 
                                                 
In my opinion, mother’s who try to feminize their sons are telling their sons that their masculine qualities to protect, to provide, to be aggressive is wrong, and what they need to do is to change because society says their masculinity is no longer needed.  So what these mother’s do is deaden the natural masculine qualities of their boys by imposing “girly” things and habits on them and hopefully turning them into a sensitive, nurturing, and emotional being just like women. In turn, their sons can understand women’s needs so they can better get along with women in the future.  Why are we pushing our sons to be more feminine and shaming our sons for showing masculine qualities? What gives us the right to cross the line into manhood and dictate what a man should be?  
When we feminize our sons, we’re taking away what’s different about them (masculinity) and making them the same as we are (femininity) and that’s not right.  What we need to do is to teach our son’s compassion and empathy: to respect women in a matter that doesn’t transform them into becoming a woman.  We need to teach our sons to appreciate women by how we conduct ourselves by the men we choose to be around with.  We need to show in our own homes that a man helps out in the family e.g. chores, children.  We need to teach our sons to see a woman as equal to a man financially and academically.   We need to teach our sons that communication is the best way to handle a situation and violence should only be used if your life is at danger.  A masculine man can be loving, considerate, understanding, supportive, and cooperative to a woman without feminizing him can’t he?
The point is: we should not change our boys into something they are not meant to be.  The qualities of their masculinity; to protect, to provide, to be aggressive are not bad qualities if directed appropriately. Just because the mothers of these sons don’t like those qualities in a man doesn’t mean their sons wouldn’t like to be a masculine man.  If we want our sons to show respect to women because one day they will become men, we need to show respect to our sons and understand how they think and feel instead of telling them that their masculine ways are wrong.  It’s not a bad thing if our sons grow up to be masculine man who makes rowdy noises; likes to drink beers now and then, and watch, or play sports as along as they are kind-hearted and treat men and woman equally, fairly, and respectfully.  Isn’t that the most important part of being a civilized human anyway?  

When I grow up and be a man…

The Don is going to be four years old in five days and already he wants to become a man.  All I been hearing lately is this sentence:  “When I grow up and be a man, I can….” fill in the blank.  It’s usually something along the lines of what he can not do e.g.  If The Don wants to drive my car and I tell him you have to be (in the state of Pennsylvania) sixteen years old to drive.  The response is, “When I grow up and be a man, I can drive a car.”
What The Don doesn’t realize is that what he doesn’t want to do is what helps him to grow up and be a great man.  For example, when I ask him to clean up his room he tells me, “When I grow up and be a man, I don’t have to clean my room.”  

I tell him, “Daddy is a grown man and he still clean up his room and rooms in the house. Cleaning your room is teaching you how to be neat and clean.  It also teaches you to work and be responsible for putting your things away.”
When it’s time to take a bath and I’m teaching The Don how to wash himself but he wants to play in the bath water instead, he says, “When I grow up and be a man, I can play in the bath water all I want.”  

I would say to him, “As a man, you will need to learn how to clean yourself because no one should be touching or cleaning your body but you.  It’s your responsibility to keep yourself clean.”
When its dinner time and he doesn’t want to eat the purple cabbage, he would say, “When I grow up and be a man, I don’t have to eat the purple” (he doesn’t say cabbage).  

My husband would say, “When you become a man, you have to know what things are healthy for you to eat and what’s not.  Cabbage is good for you and will make you a stronger man.”
The one thing that The Don doesn’t like to do is to listen and do what he is told.  I guess no one really likes to be told what to do but it’s something we can’t avoid especially at work.  So, when I tell The Don to do something and he doesn’t do it, I will tell him that he has to learn to listen.   He says, “When I grow up and be a man, I don’t have to listen.”  

I tell him, “When you become a man, there are more rules you have to follow and listen to whether it’s for your safety or work.  You will be told what to do.  It is important to listen and follow directions so you wouldn’t get hurt.  As a man, it’s important to understand and listen to what people have to say especially when it comes to safety and not to break any rules because your life can depend on it.”

The Don being a kid with his little brother Bam Bam

Whether The Don realizes it or not, what we are doing and showing him is what will make him a better man when he gets older.  Cleaning his rooms teaches neatness and organization.  Washing himself teaches him to care about his body enough to keep it clean.  Eating health food teaches him what foods will make him big and strong and teaches him to choice healthy food choices.  Learning to listen will help him be a better communicator and understanding of people.  How to listen also helps him understand what he can and can not do in this society and to have respect for authority.  All we are doing is teach him how to be a responsible man when he grows up.  I guess he won’t see that until be becomes a man.  

I know The Don feels that being a man must be better than being a kid right now but one day when he is working hard and taking care of his family, he’ll look back on when he didn’t have any real responsibilities and have all the time in the world to play as a kid and realize that he didn’t have it so bad after all.  I know some days I do.  When he becomes a man, I know he will be a great one.  I just wish he would enjoy being a kid before it is too late to appreciate it.

Motherhood Gave Me Super Human Powers I Didn’t Know I Had

Growing up, I always wanted super human powers.  The superpower that I wanted was the ability to fly…soaring up high in the air, feeling the wind surrounding my body, suspended freely in the sky, cruising through clouds and freaking people out when they see me fly next to them in airplanes as I wave “hello”.  The last part was a joke but I really wish I had the ability to fly.
Being a mother however gave me super human powers (some I like, some I don’t like). I discover I had this powers some days after my first born was born and it seem like my superpowers have heighten with the second child. These are the super human powers that I noticed at this stage of my children’s life (they are almost four and a year and a half respectfully, just in case you’re wondering) and I may development more super human powers (or lose them) as they get older.  I really think these Super Human characters came to me and blessed (or cursed) me with their abilities when it comes to raising my kids, they are:
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Invisible Man:  I know what you’re thinking, “Your children can’t see you.  What an awesome power.  I wish I had that.”  I wish it was that simple.   No, I’m not invisible to the children (although I wish I was when both of them are having their tantrums at the same time), it’s metaphorical at best.  You see, when I ask the children to do or not to do something, they act like they can’t see or hear me.  Pretty much, the kids completely ignore me.  I think to myself, “They can’t see me.  I’m must not be standing in the room telling them to pick up their toys for the third time.”  I have to check myself to see if I’m really there.  When this happens, the power of heighten audio sensory (raising my voice which isn’t a superpower at all it just comes naturally) where I magically appear before them and they do as I say.

Comic Vine.com
Spider Man: I think spidey sense was one of the superpowers that are given to mothers since pregnancy.  I don’t know why, but my spidey sense tingles…a lot.  Some days more than others and once your know your children’s personality and habits, the more your spidey sense starts tingling.  I can sense when my older son is about to jump off the arm of the couch.  I can sense when my youngest son is about to go up the stairs by himself.  I can sense when it’s too quiet when the boys are together because they’re up to something.  I also can tell if something’s wrong, when they are not happy, or when they are sick.  Spidey Sense is like an alarm that is going off in my head that is good for the most part, but sometimes it can cause a false alarm and spring into action when the infraction isn’t a serious one.  Am I jumpy much? Sure I am.
Green Arrow Devian Art
The Flash: You know I never knew how fast I was until I had children.  The lightening speed moves that I have with the kids are incredible.  You should see when I run as I chase to catch my toddler in the park who happens to find a gate on the tennis court that leads to the driveway of the park as I save him from unsuspecting cars that might be driving through.  You should see me when my oldest knock his cup over and I’m there to catch it before it hits the ground.  You should see me chase my oldest when he’s running away from me because he doesn’t want to leave where he is at.  You should see how fast I run when I see my toddler about to fall off the couch because he’s standing and bouncing on it. This superpower usually works when the kids about to do something dangerous or stupid but when I need to catch a bus, well let’s just say my flash abilities disappear like a bolt of lightening.
Latino Review
The Hulk: I’m not sure if anger is a superpower but sometimes when I get mad, I feel like I’m gaining muscle and turning green.  The Hulk power doesn’t come out unless all other options have been use to get the kids to listen to me.  The scene usually goes like this for my oldest, “If I have to tell you not to jump off the couch one more time, I’m turning the TV off.” The youngest haven’t had the opportunity to experience she-hulk yet but he doesn’t like when she come out and gets upset when the TV goes off.  But if my youngest is doing something like banging his toy on something causing a nuisance, then he gets a little bit of she hulk by a stern “No” and toy taken away.  When she hulk appears, the kids know that they are in trouble and mom isn’t turning back into nice mom until they behave.
WrapSheet Write Ups.co
Cat Woman: This superpower coincides with spidey sense.  When the kids are being too quiet or there’s a lot of whining and shouting, I sense something up (Spidey sense).  So, I creep up to where they are ever so quietly and stand at the door or hallway or wherever they are, stand there and watch them.  Sometimes it’s nothing but most of the time there doing something they’re not suppose to.  Sometimes I say, “Hey, what’s going on here?”  Usually, the kids are surprised that I was standing there and my oldest would say, “Hey mama.  What are you doing there?”  Also, the cat woman ability to creep in their bedroom to put something like there favorite toys, a drink of water, or if I wanted to tuck them in without waking them is perfect.  Like a cat, you have to step careful around toys on the floor and get out of their rooms quickly and quietly as possible without waking them.  Although, if I step on a toy, usually this happens with my youngest, he would stir and I would have to stand still and cover my phone flashlight hoping my stillness would put him back to sleep.  It usually works. I love this super power the most!
Wikia.com
Hercules: Have you ever sling carried an almost thirty pound toddler while pulling your almost forty pound preschooler out of the store while he drags he feet because they both are having a temper tantrum at the same time without breaking a sweat?  Or lifting, pulling, and or carrying a double stroller that weights more than your toddler like it was easy?  It’s amazing what super strength mothers develop that we didn’t know we had.  With The Hercules power however, it comes only when I need to carry the children or some heavy object that is for the children.  What happens to this power when I need to open a pasta sauce jar?  I would be struggling for like five minute until the jar finally opened. Thanks for the super strength!

Although I like most of the super human powers that was bestowed to me, one of them I can do without.  Invisible man, take this power away from me.  If I can’t use it when it’s beneficial to me, what good is it?  What super human powers do you have, gain or lost while raising your kids? 

Everyone Doesn’t Have to Share

I’m trying to teach The Don about sharing and taking turns with Bam Bam.  Bam Bam is starting to share his toys if he wants The Don to play with them because The Don shares with him.  When we somewhere where there’s a community toy chest, I tell The Don to share especially if the kid is younger than he is.  It’s like being the big brother of the play ground but it doesn’t always turn out that way.

The Don will be four next month and already he’s becoming bossy.  Although I’m teaching him to share, sometimes he doesn’t want to.  I would have to intervene when it comes to kids younger than him and speak up for the kid who doesn’t know how to say, “Can I play too?”  In that situation, I’ll have The Don ask the kid, “Would you like to play with me?”  This also teaches him to share.  If we bring a ball or toys with us at the park of playground and other kids what to play, I encourage The Don to share and tell them that they will give it back especially if he’s not playing with the ball or toy. You see, The Don, like every kid his age, thinks that if he sees a toy no matter where it is, it’s his.  I tell him that if a toy isn’t yours, you need to ask the kid if you can play with the toy.  Usually when he ask, the kid let’s him play with his toy and I make sure that The Don gives it back and says “Thank you” afterwards.  However, today at the park, The Don encountered a kid who didn’t want to share.

There where three girls and a boy on the sliding board sliding down mini toy cars down the slide.  The Don saw this and wanted to play with the cars.  He doesn’t know who cars there were because he was at the bottom of the slide and seeing them come down the way they did, it didn’t seem like anyone had any claim to them.  The Don started picking up the cars and started playing with them.  I was with Bam Bam up top of the slide.  I had Bam Bam slide down and I slid down and told The Don to ask if it was ok to play with the toys.  The older girl must have slid down before playing with the cars too and I told The Don to ask her if he could play with the cars. She said yes and her mom let him play.  There was a boy maybe a year younger than The Don came to where The Don was playing with the cars and was trying to take the cars back up to the slide again.  The Don was trying to trade him one car and trying to keep the rest (The Don had four and Bam Bam had two).  The boy tried to take the cars again and The Don acted like he didn’t want to give them up so I told him that he couldn’t play with them.  I explain to him that the kids were nice enough to let him play with the cars but not to take over them and if they want it back it’s their right because it’s theirs.

The Don asks me can he play with the cars again.  So I asked the older girl who looked about five and asked if the boy was her brother.  It wasn’t just a kid at the park she was playing with but the cars are his.  So I told The Don if he wants to play with the cars to ask the boy.  The Don asked him to play with the cars and the boy said, “NO.”  The disappointment on The Don’s face was hurtful to me but I explained to him that it’s ok because it’s his cars and he doesn’t have to share and told him to play somewhere else.  Honestly, I couldn’t blame the little boy because if The Don wouldn’t give back his cars before, why risk having him play with his cars again and fighting to try and get it back? 

The Don learned a value lesson today, “Everyone Doesn’t Have to Share with You.”  The Don might think that if he shares with other kids, they should share with him.  It’s a lesson that not everyone will treat you the same as you would treat them. The Don could grow up to be the most caring and giving person in the world, but don’t expect that other people would be as caring and giving as he is.  Because in reality, it’s not reality.  I tell The Don that people have the right to feel what they feel and to not take it personally.  I tell him to move on and do something else.  I guess if The Don doesn’t want someone playing with his toys that he didn’t know or comfort with, he shouldn’t let them play either.  This is one lesson he learned and was shocked by the response.  Don’t worry my son; there will be plenty more to come.

Doing Something Nice for Daddy

Sometimes I take being a stay at home mother for granted.  I may complain about how my kids get on my nervous and how I would like a break to have time for myself.  For my husband however, who sees them for about two hours when he gets home and on the weekends, would love to see the kids more often and if it’s up to him, he would be a stay at home dad than go to work everyday.  I send my husband pictures of the kids and video of our playground adventures that somehow my husband feels left out on the fun.

My husband mentions a nearby park walking distance from his job where I can take the kids on his lunch break.  I think my husband was trying to hint at the fact that he wants to play with the kids at the playground during the weekday also. During the winter, it was too cold to coming down to see my husband so when the spring weather came around, I took the opportunity to do something nice for my husband.

Yesterday, I told my husband that I wanted to bring the kids down to the park.  I know he has to close the books so I let him let me know if we can come down. I figure it was a nice day and it would be nice for my husband to have fun with the kids and get out of the office. My husband texted me about three hours later saying that I could bring the kids down.

The Don was climbing the Spiderman rope ladder while Bam Bam was asleep in the stroller when I seen my husband coming down the side of the park, the smile that came on his face was priceless.  My husband was happy to get away from the office for those mere thirty minutes to play with the kids enjoying what would be a typical day would be for me.  I think he enjoyed himself with his boys.

My husband, The Don, and Bam Bam

 
Where I’m at the point where I can’t wait to get back to work, my husband wants a chance to get out of work.  I need to count my blessings to have the opportunity to stay home with the kids because when I do go back to work, I probably be longing for days where I’m free to play with my boys and dreading the days in an office.