On Friday my husband told me he was taking our one year old to the Fathers and Sons Camp Out our church puts on.
Here is how the convo went:
"So Bridge, do you care if I take Jaxon for a couple hours to the Fathers and Sons camp out?"
"hmmmm.... a couple hours to myself, I mean what is a girl to do? I just don't know if I can actually take a shower by myself in peace. I am so used to having my son's face pressed against the fogged glass screaming, "mooooooom"as tears roll down his face. Ah, it will be a sacrifice but I think I can do it. "
Inside my head I am saying:
Heck Yes! A couple hours to myself while my husband chases around my son at a camp ground. That sounds like music to my ears.
I am so grateful for a husband who loves to do things like this with our son. Jaxon was by FAR the youngest one there by 6 years, but he tried to fit right in with all the other boys.As a blogger, I love me some pics. :) I begged my husband to take pictures so I could see all the fun and when I saw them I thought two things:
When did my son get so old and what in heavens name is he wearing? I love how my husband dresses him as if he closed his eyes, reached in to the dirty clothes bin, and picked out the first thing his hands touched.
Although it didn't matter what he wore or how young he was, because by the look of the leftover s'mores on his face and sand in his socks, I assume Jaxon had a BLAST.
By the time my son got home he was OUT COLD. I completely undressed and redressed him without him moving.
Can one person love two boys so much?
This looks like a crime scene where I should draw out his body in chalk.