Handy ManCub

Mr. Blandings has been a little, you know ... busy ... lately. What with the job searching and all. ((sigh))

The good news is that a six month temporary position has been opened for him. Six months' grace. A six month reprieve we hadn't even dared to ask for.

See? God is good!

Anyhow, the job search continues and continues and continues.

And meanwhile, life here must go on.

Things must maintain some semblance of normal for all of us, lest we fall into the swirling pit of doubts and limbo that we've been so good at avoiding during the upheaval of the past few years. Books must be read. Music must be made. Forts must be built. Meals must be cooked. 

We do a pretty good job of keeping the pie plates spinning. That's one thing that large family living will teach you-- having balls in the air is just what you do, even on the boring days. 

Lately, though, Mr. Blandings has found it more and more difficult to keep up with the additional bits that fall into his to-do pile. He has had a harder time managing interviews and phone calls and say, stringing chicken wire around the garden. Something has had to give. 

And since none of us can play Mr. Blandings (even on the phone), it's those others-- the things he'd actually rather be doing-- that have fallen into the hands of someone else. 

Capable hands, it turns out. Atticus-- already having emerged from a baptism by fire during my bed rest-- is filling in these days as the mender of gates, the getter of high items, the assembler of IKEA dressers.

Part of me wants to slump my shoulders and ask God why. Why, Lord, after the tough season we've just endured? Why is this poor kid now stuck helping out so often again? Most boys his age are spending their time in organized activities and enjoying hours of guy time. Why is my boy having to spend more time as the man and less as the cub?

Just when I purpose to do those things myself, to make sure he never has to do another "project" for us, I hear this, from my son's own mouth:

"I'm so glad I get to do this stuff. You guys really trust me. Thanks for letting me do cool things like this all by myself."

And I sigh. And I thank God. Because the thing I thought was the distraction is the point. And the thing I thought was the punishment is the lesson.

When will I ever learn?