The Square Peg

I've worked off and on since I was 15 or 16. The jobs I held while the boys were being educated at home were part-time jobs. I didn't work full-time until a few years ago, when Ryan had graduated and Drew was close to being done with high school. I've always loved the relationships I made at work, and I was definitely stretched and challenged (especially by one particular person I worked with).

Yesterday marked the one year anniversary of my quitting work outside the home. It wasn't an easy decision but it was definitely the right one. The original plan was to find another job to replace the one I gave up. You may be wondering why I gave up a job before finding another, especially in this economy, but there were extenuating circumstances that dictated I get out of that place ASAP. I looked for another job for a couple of months and went on a few interviews, but nothing earth shattering or wonderful banged on my door.

One day Moose asked me how I was enjoying being home. I told him I was really enjoying taking care of things at my leisure but I also missed making money. He knows how much satisfaction I get from looking at a paycheck and knowing I earned every, single dollar. When I asked him how he was enjoying my being home, he quickly and without hesitation told me he loved it. He said the house was more calm, peaceful, less chaotic, cleaner, more organized and that life basically just ran smoother all the way around when I was at home managing things. (Wow, who knew I did all that?! Go, me!) The decision to stop looking for a job was pretty easy. Living without my paycheck took some getting used to, though. When I noticed the date on the calendar yesterday, this 'anniversary' popped into my head and I realized that even though I've always loved working, I really enjoy being at home. It's been a peaceful year, and I was able to join Moose on some business trips that I would've missed if I'd been working.

And speaking of Moose...

Today a lady spoke for a few minutes at church and when she began to descend the platform, Moose immediately got up to assist her. She's healthy and mobile and all, but the stairs coming off the platform are pretty short and they're painted black (making them harder to see), and I could tell she appreciated the help. (What? You mean I'm not the only one who's afraid of falling down the stairs in front of everybody?) Anyway, before he even got up, I knew he was going to offer to help her. Why? Because he's a gentleman. There are men who are nice, courteous, polite or whatever, and then there are gentlemen. Do you know what I mean? The dictionary's definition of a gentleman is "a civilized, educated, sensitive, or well-mannered man." and Moose definitely fits that description. In fact, one of the qualities I love most about him is the way he protects others and anticipates how he can help or assist them. And when he got up to help, my heart just swelled with love, admiration and respect for him.

Often underestimated because of his quiet nature, but never, ever outclassed, Moose is truly