As we finished our lasagna dinner tonight, Jimmy got up to go to the pantry for what I thought was his usual, nilla wafers and peanut butter. However, this time he brought back 2 things of pudding... and a big grin. I knew who the other pudding was for! It has always driven him crazy that I would much rather have a bag of potato chips or McDonald's french fries than ice cream. So, he has now found an ally in his quest for dessert, Trace. I cringed, with my "he shouldn't be eating that" look, but didn't say a word as they dove into their chocolate pudding. Trace even remembered to share with Ginger (we are working on sharing). As you can tell from the pictures, a wet one just would not suffice in cleaning him up so our plans to go straight to WalMart were put on hold while we hosed Trace off.
At WalMart, Jimmy bought a muzzleloader (aka... hunting rifle) for upcoming hunting season. After nearly 5 years of marriage, I am slowly learning that this is not a hobby, but a passion. Anyone who purposely gets out of a warm bed at 4 in the morning when it is less than 20 degrees outside, to clammer through the dark woods and shimmy up a tree in the hopes of seeing "the big one" is either passionate or clinically insane! But, I have come to expect and respect this. I knew NOTHING about hunting or fishing when we got married, however, I am beginning to realize that now raising a son with a father who loves it, I better start learning! I have nightmares that one day, I, too will be forced to get out of my warm bed at an ungodly hour in the freezing cold to make sure my only son doesn't fall out of the tree that he is perched in, holding a gun. I am so torn between wanting Trace to love it for Jimmy's sake and the constant fear it can bring worrying about your child.
I realized tonight, through the pudding and muzzleloader incidents, that I can't control every situation in Trace's life, God is in control. I have to learn to let go of the nagging concerns and questions I constantly want to say like "Hasn't he had enough pudding?", "Isn't he swinging too high?", "Please don't take him on the lawnmower", and now " That muzzleloader isn't loaded, is it?"
Oh boy, this is not going to be easy!
1 comments:
Heidi,
I married a hunter too. It does take some getting used to....even though I know what to expect, every fall I get to get readjusted all over again. My dad never had hobbies like that and you're right...it goes beyond a passion.
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