In the words of Jane Austen – or should I say Mr. Darcy -

I have to tell you Bridget: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.  

52 hours.  Start to finish – 52 hours.  I have been married almost 13 years, am 35 years old, have a seven year old daughter in first grade and a three year old son in preschool and in just 52 hours – I have realized how honestly poor my appreciation and understanding of motherhood – good motherhood – really was.  And Bridget, the mother of my children – is really good at motherhood. 

The thing is, I knew that 52 hours ago. I knew she was amazing on so many personal, spiritual, longsuffering, and gut rending levels.  But as to her mothering – I knew it at a Hallmark card cliché sort of level - a Focus on the Family 300 hundredth show on mothers for mothers about mothering level. Not the same thing as trying her pants on (you know what I mean) and walking around in them for 52 hours. 

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Today I dropped my 9 –year-old daughter off at the Jr. high bus stop.

Our school district offers violin lessons for 4^th graders at the local Jr. high before school. 4^th graders are to ride the bus with the Jr. High kids, take their lesson, and re-board the bus, which drops them off at their proper elementary school.  Because I’m really very afraid of Junior High kids (I spent a year teaching 7^th grade Spanish), I debated whether or not to just drive her to the school myself, sparing her the bus experience. She’s so tiny and sweet, I rationalized. Those kids will eat her alive. Plus, how will she be able to find the music room when she gets there? I mentioned this plan to Alex and, horrified, she replied, “Mom. There. Is.

Tonight, over leftovers, my kids had some serious questions. For the record, the questions weren't about the leftovers. Caleb wanted to know just what the "f word" was and Alex decided to help her brother in his quest for the truth.  They can form an unbeatable team in a matter of moments when they are united behind a common cause such as deciphering what a cuss word really means. It's Sunday night, so Mike was at church.  I was left alone to answer these hard core facts of life questions. 

Friday nights in the Howerton house are special. With all the chaos, activities and church stuff that fill our week nights and weekends, we have officially reserved Friday nights for family togetherness. We intentionally try to protect this night, carefully shielding it from any other meetings or demands that threaten to bump it from the calendar. 

Dubbed "Family Fun Fridays," these nights remind us to slow down and enjoy each other. Nothing else competes with our time. We don't answer our cell phones and we try to not check our e-mail, blogs, twitter, or facebook accounts. Well, we at least wait until after the kids are in bed. We play games, go to the movies or rent one, wrestle until the walls shake, and generally eat lots and lots of junk food. 

FFF begins when we pick the kids up from school on Friday afternoons and we all decide together what to do. Last Friday, Alex decided to go to the movies and Caleb decided on a family pajama party. They argued back and forth, declaring the various merits and drawbacks of each idea. Then, I, in my Solomon like wisdom, not thinking they would take me seriously, said

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Last night Caleb (my 6 year son) and I found ourselves alone. Alex was at a sleepover and Mike is at his 20 year high school reunion in California. (He's called a few times to report that the homecoming queen and prom princess have lost some sparkle and that many of his buddies are bald.)I asked Caleb to go on a date with me. He accepted with a cute little smile.

"Buddy, pick anywhere you want...just not Chuck E. Cheese...Ok?"
"Mama, I want to eat at your restaurant. I want to stay home with you and play."

How could I say no? All he wanted to do was stay home and play with me. I was able to convince him that mommy's restaurant was kind of closed and we should go grab food and bring it back. We had a picnic in the front yard and played "superheroes" while we ate. My super hero name was Supersonic. I had laser vision, super strength, nostril power, and could fly. 
Caleb had a host of powers I can't remember now but I do remember the bad guy had vomit power.

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