The Professional Mother

Second day in, and I woke up late (as usual, so really I woke up on time). My husband takes care of pretty much everything in the morning. He wakes up first, takes a shower, brushes his teeth, and then while he is swishing mouthwash he comes into the bedroom and wiggles my foot as I continue to snooze in our wonderfully comfortable flannel sheets. I love to sleep, so it takes me a while to overcome the urge to remain in bed for as long as possible. I crawled out of bed pretty quickly this morning, however, and showered and dressed while he got the kids out of bed. Baby girl is first and Eddie squeezed her into a sweatsuit that is nearly too small for her. Then Eddie pulls our son out of bed and dresses him in a lumberjack outfit. I'm not sure what the appeal is, but he looks like a little lumberjack or construction worker. Our son is obsessed with construction, so perhaps the outfit is actually appropriate.

My son's construction and train facination has led me to pointing out manlifts, excavators, bulldozers, locomotives, and trains all around town. I am learning the difference between a trackhoe and a backhoe, although I promise my spelling will always flounder in that area. It is a pleasure to be considered so knowledgeable in an area that I know so little about. But my son believes I can tell him what everything on a construction site is as well as what the construction workers are doing. I'm doing my best to learn and tell him correctly, but come on . . . it is construction after all, and I was an English/History major with focus on literary analysis . . . what do I know about tying rebar?