Hungry men having farm breakfast cooked by Daddy while we were out doing chicken chores on Sat.

So I was tucking Sam in last night and reflecting on herding Merlin (the rooster) back into the pen out of which he’d flown after Ben gave him a good chase. When you herd a big, fast rooster, you need to go very surreptitiously – carve a wide swath, approach slowly, pretend like you don’t care if they go where you want or not, and that you have all the time in the world. He’s got to think it’s his idea. I realized this has so much relevance to how I should strive to parent. The swath gets wider with age, but arms remain outstretched for guidance, and yet a gesture of love and acceptance at the same time. I have got to (somehow) pretend like I am not invested in the outcome myself – go through the gate if you like, or not. And I’ve got all the time in the world, right? Sure. But the key is – I do. They are my first priority. I have to somehow keep that top of mind despite all the other immediate pressures. These kids are a gift on loan to me. My mom always says that, and she’s a great role model. I have a patience issue – I do get a lot done in the typical day, but I’m breathless much of the time. So these mornings spent with Ben doing chicken chores (and finding eggs followed by “Thanks girls!”), then a walk on the trails in our woods to see Racky asleep in his tree are precious moments.