learning to share

I learned something this past week. Something I should have figured out years ago, but then, I’m not that quick anymore. Brain cells don’t multiply after age 25. (At least that’s my theory.) I should have known this, but I didn’t until my sister-in-law took all four boys yesterday for the entire day.

I need to share.

Well, let’s clarify that a bit more, because Lord knows there are things that I will never share, like my favorite size 10.5 wooden knitting needles, or my pillow or slobber with a dog.

That being said, there are a few things in my life that I should be sharing - like my kids. Especially my kids.

I need to share them with friends, neighbors, random elderly in nursing homes, grandparents, aunts, cousins and even the lady from church who likes to occasionally take the oldest to musical concerts.

I never quite realized how good it is to share with others the wonderful gift of my kids. (I’m writing that with a not-so-hidden smile, just so you know.) But, I’m also being a little bit serious.

Our youngest child, even though a climber, is simply a delight. He is smiley and as cute as can be since he talks in a language that only his brothers can translate and he will hug anyone. I should be sharing him, and his hugs.

The oldest is responsible and appears in dire need to being shared with his older cousin, because he isn’t getting enough “alone” time with him away from his brothers. He loves to cook and will chop any sort of vegetable needed for supper or brown ground beef. I should be sharing him with his cousin and with anyone who likes to cook with an apprentice.

The next child is tough and tender and an animal lover. He loves just about everyone, even if he’s frowning. He freely gives hugs and “I love yous” and likes to do nice things for people. I should be sharing him with some random stray cat or with Grandma and Grandpa when they need someone to take care of their chickens.

The third boy is the one that I will share the most gladly. He has a certain quality about him that allows him to figure out exactly what it is that will drive his brothers crazy, and then he does it. I would love to share that part of him, especially with his father, whom I’m convinced the genes are coming from anyway. He is a great gopher and fetcher - I should be sharing him with his uncle as he works on finishing off his basement. He can fetch screws, nails, a hammer and just about anything else you ask him to. I could share him with just about anyone who needs a little help around the house because he also likes to scrub floors, wash walls and spray window cleaner. (Any takers?)

Of course, the best part of sharing the best parts of my boys is that I get peace and quiet in the house. And a chance to work uninterrupted on things like pulling out the 85 percent of things in their closet that they’ve outgrown. Or to finally get around to dusting. Or even make bread without random hands trying to punch dough because they think it looks fun.

It truly seems like a win-win situation for everyone involved. There is biblical instruction for this as well. Paul tells us in 1 Timothy 6:17-18 that those who are rich in this world (I’m interpreting that to mean rich in boys) to do good, be rich in good deeds and to be generous and willing to share. (See where I’m going with this?)

I should share my boys because they might actually bring delight to someone’s day, but at the same time someone like my sister-in-law is doing a good deed by sharing her talent of entertaining children. (This is one skill I am ALWAYS in awe of, because I so completely lack it.)

It seemed like she enjoyed having the kids - especially the youngest, who is usually a riot. The kids couldn’t stop talking about spending the day at Auntie Lisa’s and all the cool stuff they got to do and eat and see (Playstation, Jell-O, ice cream at Culver’s and a girls’ basketball game). I had a very enjoyable and quiet day resting on the couch, knitting the entire time. I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that everyone was a winner.

I need to share these boys more often.