For example, I can remove all sorts of stains. I've learned that the Oxiclean spray is the best for removing bodily fluids, and I’m not too concerned to find grass stains on Jack’s pants... Although, I’m all ears if someone has tips for getting lanolin cream out of the couch.
Speaking of stains, I don’t worry about my kid getting dirty when he plays. Because he will. It doesn't bother me when he comes in soaking wet either. Like, the time he fell into the creek while with Aunt Kirby. My poor sister (she has a girl) was soooo worried, and I just figured that comes with the testosterone territory.
I know that the brachiosaurus’ front legs are longer to help him reach the tops of trees (mostly because there's a song that can easily get stuck in your head). I know about cherry pickers, forklifts and excavators. I’m even learning to distinguish different types of Hot Wheels’ cars so I can point them out as we drive around town.
I don’t get too excited when my oldest son falls unless there are tears. And blood. I've discovered creative ways to coerce Jack into washing his hands or picking up his toys. I've learned that wrestling is the young male’s version of snuggling.
I still find myself grumbling when Jack wants me to read the same book for the 478th time. This week. I cringe when I hear the frustrated tone after repeating, “Jack, you need to listen!” And, I still have to remind myself to put down my phone and focus on the snugly baby bundle in my arms. I feel like I should smack myself upside the head when I realize I’m focused on Facebook instead of treasuring time with my boys. I know that I’m far from perfect, but at least I’m headed in the right direction.