Learning how to be a Daddy

That's what the oldest boy said he was doing.

Saturday, I began dragging the Christmas decorations down from the attic.
I don't do the attic. I'm terrified of the attic. But the 12 boxes of Christmas stuff won't jump down on their own. Nope, someone has to brave the rickety attic ladder and the dark, spidery place and coax those dozen boxes of wintry splendor down to the garage floor.

I had to be the one to do it. I almost completed the mission. Oldest boy helped. He stood at the base of the ladder and took the boxes from me, then stacked them by the garage door.
He never complained once.

I complained though. But before I could finish the job, the muscles in my back and neck gave out entirely. I spent all day Sunday with a heating pad and heavy medication trying in vain to recoup the progress that had been made before my voyage into small cave above the garage.

Today, I had planned to get those last four boxes. The boys' room trees were still up there and I was not about to disappoint the little fellows.

My oldest had other plans.

"I can do it, Mom. I'm strong enough and I'm not scared."

Against my better judgement...I let him.
He proudly, with a bit of fear, climbed the ladder.
He balked when he saw the actual ladder but smiled down to me and said..."It won't be a problem. I can do this. Don't worry about me, Mom."
With great care from him and great worry from me, he manged to bring down all four boxes.
He even carried them into the house.

"I'm practicing. I'm learning how to do the stuff I'll need to do when I'm a Dad. I'll have to know how to get stuff down from the attic. You can't help me forever, Mom."

No, I can't.

The boy is only 2 inches shorter than me now. He's almost as strong. He can carry a 20 pound bag of dog food like it's a bag of bread.

And now, he feel comfortable taking things in and out of the attic.

He's doing all he can to be the young man of the house in his Daddy's absence.

I'm torn.
On the one hand I am so proud of this young man. I'm proud that he has picked up his Daddy's chivalry and strength of character and body.
On the other hand, I wonder where that little boy who clung to my hand has gone off to.

Two of my favorite people: My dear elf Daddy and my oldest son at 10 months old. My the younger become the kind of man the older tried his best to be.