The Nurturer in Me

One thing I quickly discovered upon having an empty nest is, just because there are no children here to cater to take care of, the need to nurture does not stop. It's a wonderful gift this nurturing spirit we mothers possess.  It is one of the best innate gifts we have been blessed with.  It keeps us going when we are exhausted from chasing little devils our precious little ones around; allows knowledge we didn't even know we had to kick in enabling us to handle situations our babes get into; it enables our healing nature when the sweet ones are sick; it guides our disciplinary actions with understanding, fairness and a gentle manner. We may have to let our children go do our best to raise our precious ones to go out into the world, but our need to nurture does not end when the young ones leave us stranded venture out on their own.  This stripping of the motherhood stripes almost automatically leads to a huge tidal surge of love and nurturing washing over husbands like a tsunami.  Immediate effects?  Nurturing nature satisfied.  Long term effects?  Husbands become SPOILED ROTTEN and can no longer do anything on their own.  I, personally, have, because of this blasted evil nurturing spirit, created the proverbial MONSTER.  Overnight.

The last 26 years have found every second of my time occupied with the raising of our four daughters.  When they were babes they had to have my nurturing care 24/7 at least.  Hubs was very good during these years not only with the changing of diapers, but he would also get up, fetch a crying baby, change her and bring her to me for nursing.  He was able to get himself up in the mornings for work without disturbing anyone's sleep (and by anyone, I mean mine), get himself dressed, make his own lunch and head out the door with ample time to spare.  As the girls grew older and became involved in their various activities, Hubs was there to attend the events or stay with a younger daughter or, really, whatever I needed him to do.  And he did it quite well.  Oh, I might have had to leave him with instructions, but he followed them and no one was ever hurt or left wanting.  Point is, he was quite capable. 

Now that our nest is empty, however, Hubs has quickly developed a helpless sort of nature.  And, at fault, is my nature to nurture.

Hubs:  "Are there any jalapenos?"
Me: "Yes, in the fridge." 
Hubs: "Where?"
Me:  "On the door." (And, under my breath: "Right where they ALWAYS are because I know you love them and I never let you run out of them you moron wonderful man") 
Hubs: "I don't see them."  Followed by me going to the fridge, opening the door (very key step when looking for something located in said fridge), securing the jalapenos and handing them to Hubs.
Hubs:  "Oh, I didn't see them."  (Really? Oh geez...)

Or, this senario:
Picture the bedroom, bed covered in just washeddriedfolded laundry that I haven't put away yet.

Hubs:  "Did you do laundry today?"
Me: (holding breath and quickly counting to five MILLION before answering) "Yes, I did."
Hubs:  "Did you wash my under armor?"
Me:  (in my mind: WTH? Can you NOT see right in front of you freaking face?!) "Yeppers.  Sure did."
Hubs:  "Where is it?" 

Yes, I created that MONSTER.  Though I do wonder that, since God gives mothers this nurturing spirit, can He be blamed? (After all, Adam DID blame God for Eve's indiscretion---The woman you put here with me...) 

I would NOT under any circumstances ever wish any kind of pain on any of my daughters.  But, today, DoodleBug had to have her wisdom teeth taken out and, just for today, I was able to nurture her and Birdie, who isn't sick or anything but came to sit with her sister.  I made mashed potatoes and served it to them.  I made homemade, triple chocolate milkshakes and served them.  I slaved over homemade mom's-heal-all-chicken-noodle-soup and served them.  Whatever they needed, I got for them and, when they wanted me to play Wii tennis with Birdie, I did and, it was pure pleasure.  AND, not one single time, did I have to speak mentally or do any counting at all.