To comfort myself, I repeat often in my mind that I am helping them learn a valuable life skill. I don't think they should have to share everything, and I don't make them share everything, but taking turns is a part of life. If they can learn to balance this tightrope with stuffed animals, maybe someday when they have to share bigger things, like a car and a mortgage payment, they will be better prepared to handle life.
This is somewhat of a lie. I've realized this week that there are some things you never get used to sharing.
For the majority of our four years-and-nine-months marriage, Scott has been in school. This wasn't so bad at first, because I was also working and in school, and aside from our callings, we didn't have many other things occupying our time and attention.
And then I graduated. And the baby came. And I stopped working. And I had to learn how to share my time with him with my baby, along with the time he already spent at school and work.
And then he switched jobs. And I had to learn to share him with a commute. BUT, he graduated from Utah State and we were done with one phase of schooling, so that was nice.
And then he switched jobs again. And I had to share him with an even longer commute, because we bought a house, and I also had to share him with the backyard and leaky faucet and a half dozen other home improvement projects.
And then baby #2 was on his way. And Scott had to learn to share what little was left of my energy with not only our daughter, but our unborn son and all of the appointments, tests, shots, and procedures that went along with getting him here safely. And then, once Sly was here, Scott and I had to learn to share a little more of ourselves with our children, because suddenly we weren't double-teaming our daughter, we were stumbling around trying to figure how to play man-to-man.
And about a month after we found out about Sly, Scott started graduate school. And because we all know that this (eventually) would be a great blessing to our family. I learned to share him with Weber State, and homework, and reading, and discussion posts, and paper writing, and group projects. And, I've happily learned to share him with a newfound passion he has for learning that somehow never really showed up during his undergraduate years.
As he has accepted new callings in our church congregation and we've made new friends, I've learned to share him and his thoughtful heart with those around us who need his helping hands on occasion. My husband is the most generous man I know. This is a gift he has inherited from his parents, who liberally give of their time, talents, and resources--often more than they should give, because it isn't in them to say "no" or "I'm sorry, I can't."
The lesson that I want to teach my children, then, is that sharing really never gets any easier, but it can become a positive experience when you learn to share the things you love most with the people you love most. For example, in high school I learned to share my swingset with my best friends, and as a result many late-night heart-to-heart discussions created beautiful memories. In college, I learned to share my personality and intellect with my roommates, many of whom are still my dearest friends. On my mission, I learned to share my Heavenly Father and Jesus with complete strangers, and because of this my love for and my relationship with God grew. When we got married, I learned to share my favorite, oversized quilt and I've enjoyed it so much more now that I have someone to cuddle with under the green 1970's polyester fabric. I've learned that sharing my children with their grandparents spreads love through three and four generations, and this is a gift that at this point in life, only Scott and I can give to both our children and to their grandparents. We make the effort to give them time together, and they make the very most of it! We just have to learn to get out of the way, and all of the sudden, being a spectator is one of my favorite roles.
So it is with Scott. When I get out of the way and give him time to learn, work, serve, and play, my love for him grows and grows. The most selfish thing in the world that I could ever do would be to keep him to myself. I know better than anybody (except maybe his mother), the wonderful kind of man he is, and it would be wrong of me to keep him hidden from the world.
So, I let him go.
I send him to work. I send him to school. I send him to Elder's Quorum meetings, home teaching, and when we can manage, the Temple. I send him upstairs to play with Kevin and rock Sly to sleep. I send him downstairs to work on homework. I send him to Lowe's for hardware for the sprinkler system. I send him outside to talk to the neighbors. I send him back to bed to get a bit more sleep so that he can, by some miracle, find a little more energy to balance all that he has to do.
Actually, the truth is, I don't send him anywhere. He goes on his own. What I do do, however, is give him room to fly.
He does the same for me.
And because we are learning to share each other, those moments we have truly to ourselves become not only precious, but sacred. In that way, we aren't growing apart in the white space between us, but closer together.
The lesson that I want to teach my children, then, is that sharing really never gets any easier, but it can become a positive experience when you learn to share the things you love most with the people you love most. For example, in high school I learned to share my swingset with my best friends, and as a result many late-night heart-to-heart discussions created beautiful memories. In college, I learned to share my personality and intellect with my roommates, many of whom are still my dearest friends. On my mission, I learned to share my Heavenly Father and Jesus with complete strangers, and because of this my love for and my relationship with God grew. When we got married, I learned to share my favorite, oversized quilt and I've enjoyed it so much more now that I have someone to cuddle with under the green 1970's polyester fabric. I've learned that sharing my children with their grandparents spreads love through three and four generations, and this is a gift that at this point in life, only Scott and I can give to both our children and to their grandparents. We make the effort to give them time together, and they make the very most of it! We just have to learn to get out of the way, and all of the sudden, being a spectator is one of my favorite roles.
So it is with Scott. When I get out of the way and give him time to learn, work, serve, and play, my love for him grows and grows. The most selfish thing in the world that I could ever do would be to keep him to myself. I know better than anybody (except maybe his mother), the wonderful kind of man he is, and it would be wrong of me to keep him hidden from the world.
So, I let him go.
I send him to work. I send him to school. I send him to Elder's Quorum meetings, home teaching, and when we can manage, the Temple. I send him upstairs to play with Kevin and rock Sly to sleep. I send him downstairs to work on homework. I send him to Lowe's for hardware for the sprinkler system. I send him outside to talk to the neighbors. I send him back to bed to get a bit more sleep so that he can, by some miracle, find a little more energy to balance all that he has to do.
Actually, the truth is, I don't send him anywhere. He goes on his own. What I do do, however, is give him room to fly.
He does the same for me.
And because we are learning to share each other, those moments we have truly to ourselves become not only precious, but sacred. In that way, we aren't growing apart in the white space between us, but closer together.
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