mops and men

There's a great hormone rush that gets stirred up when a woman gives birth. There is so much for both her and baby to adjust to after the delivery. A lot for dad too, really. Yesterday at work I felt like I needed a mop. I went into three consecutive rooms to check on babies and in each room found the new mother in tears.  Each one overwhelmed with the challenges of feeding her baby. The empathetic, frustrated dads had a few tears as well. This is when I hope I do some of my finest work. Not just mopping up tears, but encouraging, teaching, figuring out new feeding plans, etc. 

Another random thought today regarding hormones, is about men giving reports. When I come home from a movie and tell the Gardener about it, or tell him about a book I read, he claims I give him such vivid details that he doesn't need to read the book  or see the movie.  On the other hand, when he comes home from something and I'm dying to hear details, it's like pulling teeth. I wear myself out asking questions (if I'm worn out, imagine the patience of the Gentle Gardener). 

Eventually I just give up and he mutters something about the difference between men and women. Big picture (in five or less words) versus minuscule, vivid, delightful details. And that's how it is. Men and women are, simply put, different.  And thankfully so.