Friday, May 21, 2010

Recovery In The Mental Ward


Please admit that this is the cutest picture you have ever, ever seen. It is my niece Adelah and her new doggy Kronk. K.J. took this picture with his anti-destructo camera, and I should enter it in Peach Days or something. Because it is artistic, people! And the photo subject is just so. dang. cute. (P.S. She is seriously this cute in real life, too. Possibly cuter. Hard to say.)

I am in the recovery phases of Wednesday's blowout of pyschoticness. How do I know I am in recovery, you ask? I have some rational thought. Not a lot, but some. I admit, that when I got home from loitering at the grandparents last night and the Double B was outside with the neighbors and did not come in for two hours, I cried. I cried, y'all. And I am not joking, I am not a crier. I mean, I do cry when warranted. I cry when I feel the Spirit. I cry when I need to. But I don't cry often, because I don't often have a real, legitimate reason to cry. But I did cry. Big wet snotty tears, and I didn't wipe the snot. Because the snot was making a statement. And then my dear husband tried in his insanity to set me straight, and then I cried more. I cried for a long, long time in front of an NCIS episode from season three. And by the end, I admit that I tried to drag it out a little because I wanted my mate to feel really, really bad for me. I don't know if it worked. Or if he just spent the time fantasizing about leaving my psychopathic behind for a cabana in the tropics. If only there was a way to find out. Such as my asking "Hey, Ben. When I was crying like a nut-case and I let the snot dribble and I wanted you to feel bad... did it work?"

But I'm not going to ask. I have my pride, people.

Thank you all for listening to me. For real. You are kind, compassionate people, and your kind compassionate comments made me feel like... really like you are kind and compassionate people.

Last night my mother and I watched this show about the teeniest child in the world and the tallest child in the world. It was very interesting. I love those people, because I think they take their situation (which is far from ideal) and run, run, run with it. What a great example. If my right foot should ever start growing again and grow to an enormous size, I hope two things:

A) That TLC would come and do a one hour special on me, and

B) That I would have the world's biggest foot and take it like a champion.

Tonight is the Father and Sons camp out in our ward (or church congregation, if you will. And I will). K.J. has been anticipating this like Christmas. And sure enough, he was at my bedside this morning at six o'clock, shaking like a leaf and squeaking "Mom, today is Father and Sons!!!" It was very, very cute. Albeit early. He then climbed in, cuddled up against my back as tight as humanly possible (the Double B was already at work slaving away to provide for his offspring and slightly mentally unwell wife -- poor Double B), and contemplated all the thrills and chills coming his way. It was cute. He is so excited, I hope it lives up to his expectations! I think he is just so excited for his Dad's complete, total, and undivided attention. And we all need that sometimes. Livi and I will be having the girl's night of the century. I just want her to feel as special as possible. A nice dinner out, shopping for a new outfit, talking about how she and her cousin Leighna are "Mouseketeers." That sort of thing. 'Cause that is the kind of awesomeness my Mom created for me as a kid. And I want to create that same kind of magic for my little princess, if I can do it. And next year we'll have another little princess in the mix. I'm excited for that, too.

Only three days of school left after today! I can't wait to have my little burger full time again. But now looking back, it seems like this school year has gone by fast. But that is always how it is. It takes a long time, but when you look back it seemed like no time at all. I am thinking I should have been a philosopher. Me and De Cartes.

In closing, I will share an Olivia-ism, because where would you be if I did not share with you all the things my children say that I think are truly hilarious? Yesterday my brother and amAzing sister-in-law took our kids to Dinner Queen for happy hour, 'cause we are just awesome like that. I got Livi and her little cousin Leighna back into the car and we started pulling away when Olivia burped. I am talking a gigantic, enormous, rumbling Man-Belch. And then she rubbed her tummy and said "Mmm, delicious burp!!!"

With that, I bid you all a fond farewell. Happy weekend-ing!

4 comments:

Ducksoup said...

i love this monday, wednesday, friday kind of posting. i think you should make tina promise you the same kind of thing because she is currently an enormous blog slacker. i wish ben lived across the street from me so he could fix all my yard woes. man, i think i would have cried too. like hey honey, i am home. attention please, you know like now. have a fun weekend with olivia. and when are you going to let me in on same names for the next one. love yah oodles.

Elise H. said...

Mmmm, delicious burp-- I LOVE your daughter now.

Mmm, delicious blog. :P

Tink said...

I'm glad you're feeling better. Sometimes you just need a good snot drippin' cry!

Kamille said...

My husband will never go on a father's and son's outing. Daddy-daughter dates he will have many, but not father's and son's. Unless he's feeling the light of Christ overpower him and he must serve a fatherless boy in the ward. Like I said, He'll never go. :)