Dearest F.C. and other Friends and Family,
Hello, dear. As we were driving in the car earlier I heard a little gasp from the very back, then Olivia shouted "Mom, what are those clouds doing to our mountain!?" It sounded very scandalous, let me assure you. You'll be glad to know that when the only answer was "Snowing on them," things calmed right back down.
I miss you, buddy.
Let's discuss Katee Jill's sleeping habits, as we are always fascinated by sleep in all forms. Kate is my best sleeper so far. She is also, for the most part, my cheerfullest (word? Jenny, is that a word?) baby. I think the two are directly connected. I also think it might have something to do with being a formula baby, but I can not confirm this without scientific backing. She still wakes up about 4:30 and about 6:30. But again, since she and her bottle are passionately in love, usually the Double B will swap nightly feedings with me, which is very magnanimous of him. (He is the best, and I can't lie about that.) I still don't like the sleep deprivation, but compared to some (probably you with tiny baby Maci), I'm getting more then my fair share. Plus, the fact remains that if I were a more righteous person, I would already have scripture study in and pancakes on the table before she woke up at 6:30. But here is the truth: I just go back in to bed for a few more zzzz's instead. Some people, who are mean, say their babies are already sleeping through the night. They are mean, because they get more sleep then I do. Mean people are mean!
Here is a little story about the Double B: I had to speak on Sunday, which honestly, always makes my feet turn into blocks of ice and forces me to check my heart health -- which is funny, because getting up in front of people doesn't bother me -- except in church. Then it's torture. I guess because the gospel is something I love and I worry when gospel information is presented by a person who lives in Spazland. None of this has to do with the Double B. I'm getting to that, hold on to your shorts. You should also know (still not Double B) that I am a "words of affirmation" person. In fact, I'm like a puppy. I practically pant to be stroked, especially by my honey. I used to think this was a weakness, but guess what -- it's just me. So I'm okay with my wordiness needs. The Double B does not need to be stroked by kind words about how awesome he is. But on Sunday, there were THREE separate times that he told me he thought I did a really great job. And he expounded on his point... each time! It was the most romantic thing that has happened to me in quite a long time. I practically swooned! I am glad he is my friend, and not just 'cause he said nice things to me on Sunday. He's just nice all the time. (Insert fluttering eyelashes here.)
Miss Olivia and I are scheduled to do her Christmas shopping today, but honestly I'm a little nervous about it. The main reason for this is that the woman CAN NOT KEEP A SECRET. So I'm worried that as soon as we get home and the presents are wrapped and under the tree, she will promptly tell brother and Daddy exactly what she got for them! We are working on discretion at our household.
I once had this English professor who was one tough nugget. It was probably the hardest class I ever took in college, even though it was only in the 200 level, and that includes the incredibly retarded Honors Philosophy class I took with the really special professor and the Physical Science class that I completely bombed. The reason is because he was such a stickler! But I learned a lot. So I value the experience. Sometimes, as you know, teachers are sticklers just because they like the power, even though hot air is actually seeping out of the top of their heads. Others are sticklers because darnit, they know something, and you shall know it too by the end! My final paper was called "Mormonism in a Post-Modern World" and it took every ounce of brainpower in my body. I'd go to my scheduled meetings with him all semester and we'd beat the crap out of my paper. Because of him I always get very nervous about what physical abilities I give inadament objects by my sentence structures. And let's just clear one thing up right now (I know I'm not supposed to start this sentence with an "and," but I will anyway) -- I know I write and speak in a slightly different style then most people. Often I'll go back and re-read something I've written and say "Why did I form my sentence that way?" It often just looks weird. But that is how I speak, and so that is how I write. I speak weird. I write weird. And my stickler professor helped me see that. So thank you, sir, wherever you were. You were very effective and polite.
This has nothing to do with anything, F.C., but I was thinking it, so I shared.
Last night I had to deal with young hormonal males again. Young hormonal males on a trailer as they screamed Christmas carols and many other things, as well. I don't know how those Young Men leaders do it. It did; however, strongly reinforce my theory about the Lord inserting hormone-induced blinders on young women, though. 'Cause it is the ONLY explanation, I promise.
I do like Males. A lot. Just not teenage ones when they are in peacock mode. It actually injures my brain. And the young women's president inside of me just can't bear watching them make their move on my beautiful, innocent girls.
* shudder *
Don't worry, F.C.
I'll be alright when I get better.
I love you, buddy-O.