When Life Gives You Mud, Make a Mud Pie

Last night, as I hopped into the car with Sarah and Bridget to partake in our monthly Chili's date, Park and Chris were on the driveway waving goodbye and blowing me kisses. But before I could even get the door shut, I distinctly heard a cheery squeal from Park as he pumped his fist in the air and shouted, "Yesssss, Jussss the BOYS now!!"

Bridget cracked up.

I assured her that this was not a one time reaction, but rather the norm for when they get to have a special night together sans Mommy. And I have to say that it warms my heart to see how much Park loves his time with Daddy. There is no place he would rather be than right beside Chris, regardless of what they do together. Hanging on Daddy's every word and laughing at anything he says, I'm often reminded that their relationship is everything I've ever prayed it would be and more. Chris has far exceeded any expectations I had for the type of father I wanted for my children.

That being said, there are some things I've also come to NOT expect from their time of male bonding .

Cleanliness tops the list.

No baths will be taken. PERIOD. Vast amounts of dirt will be involved in most activities and mismatched clothing will be worn while partaking in such endeavors. Potties will not be necessary because the yard will be used for the majority of relief purposes. Muddy shoes will not be removed upon entering the house and unclean clothing will not make it to the hamper. Teeth will usually not get brushed before bedtime and pajamas will be optional.

Now, my dad was a daddy to girls. He was forced into being a clean man, held to those standards set by a mommy of girls. He became a man that learned to invest in the hygienic well being of his daughters when they were left in his care.

Not to mention he learned to fix a mean pigtail.

But, the truth is, I'm outnumbered. I live in a male dominated household, where my voice of reason is merely like spitting in the wind. Which, by coincidence, is also a pastime they enjoy together in my absence.

And just like my father learned to do, I have had to figure out how to somewhat conform. Coming to terms with the unwritten man law of filth, I've become a much happier wife and mommy. Released from the oppressiveness of allowing their dirt to define me, I've learned that boys will be boys and at best, my influence will cultivate a small need for a decent degree of cleanliness somewhere down the road.

I pray.

Because , truly, it's all about setting realistic expectations. Well, that and scrubbing Park down the next morning after a night of "JUSSSS THE BOYS!!!"

Call me conformed, but a little dirt seems like a small price to pay for the joy I get from seeing the love between my Park and his beloved daddy.

And a night out with precious girlfriends was just icing on my mud pie.