The differences between men and women, or at least between my husband and I become more and more clear the longer we are married. As eight years have passed, and children have been added to our family, the 'real' Scott and Tami have come out. That subject could fill dozens of blog posts, but that's not what I'm really writing about tonight.
A realization came to both me and Scott this week. We have vastly different styles of managing the various happenings that occur in the middle of the night at our house. It is not unusual for both of us to be up at different times during the night- I handle newborn needs, and he generally takes care of the three older kids when they have a bad dream, need to visit the bathroom, or fail to visit the bathroom (this usually takes a team of two parents, though).
When I get up with Caroline, I silently make my way out our room, across the hall into her room. Then I feed her, change her diaper, burp her, put her back to bed, get a drink of water, and head back to bed. I do this all in the dark, not wanting anyone else in the house to wake up (especially not one of the other children). The next morning, Scott does not usually remember me getting up.
On the other hand, when Scott gets up with one of the kids, our house comes to life. First our bathroom light goes on- wouldn't want to trip on the way to our bedroom door. Then comes the hall light. (Right outside our bedroom door.) Next is the hall bathroom light (about two feet down the hallway from our room).
By now I am wide awake, wondering if Jesus has come back (and why do I feel so tired if the rapture has happened and I'm on my way to heaven and I guess the dispensationalists were right after all). When I come to my senses and realize that no, it isn't the rapture, it's only Scott taking Carter back to bed after a bad dream, I first fight the urge to yell, "Turn the lights out, what is your problem?!" and then I am really overcome with thankfulness that Scott has taken care of a child in the middle of the night without meaning to wake me up. Thanks, honey!
Even though I do wake up with the light pouring onto my pillow, Scott always pops right out of bed at the first sound of an older child, he seldom asks me for help in getting them settled back down, and the next morning he never complains about any of it, even though he gets up far earlier than I do and keeps the kids quiet while I feed the baby and fight for a few more minutes of sleep.
And that is why I love him.
