Today, in a desire to talk to someone, I have decided to just write whatever comes into my head and I SHALL NOT EDIT MYSELF. That way, you can know how slightly exhausting and strange it must be to talk to me in real life. Nothing but the truth, that's all the warning you are getting.
Yesterday I reminded my little brother (he nodded like he remembered, but I don't think he really did, because he remembers nothing. I think he was trying to be nice) that when we were small(er) we one day decided to stir water and flour together until we got something amazing. And it really was like... awesome. It became this consistency somewhere between glue and wallpaper paste and melted ice cream. It looked so white and creamy and delicious. We ended up outside on the west side of our house, stirring feverishly. It was kind of cool outside that day, which means I don't know if it was spring or fall but I remember the light and the cool and my little brother leaning over the bowel with me while I stirred as fast and as earnestly as I could.
We ruined the bowel, because really -- if you stir flour and water together enough -- it does sort of become a glue-like substance. Glue that will not come off.
I like my little brother, though he does like to pick on me. If I haven't said it enough, I will here reiterate that I have three brothers. Three.
I would like to announce something: I have a desire to purge all sarcasm from my life. I have spent years in sarcasm, and I just no longer think it has much of a place for me. Plus, I've had lots of examples lately where I've learned this important lesson:
You hurt a nice and innocent persons feelings by what you said even if you didn't mean it (or mean it all the way) and that is dumb. I really think you should work on this.
Honestly, I have always felt an almost unreasonable level of pain and angst when I've hurt another persons feel-bads (since like ... ever, really). Then I became three people's Mommy, and that just compounds it.
So I think I should give it up.
I mean, a little sarcasm, like "Mm-mm, I am the best cook ever!" But no more of the sarcasm that says "You're an idiot -- just kidding, I love you." I've used that way too much, and it doesn't always interpret. So I say "Ta-ta" to sarcasm. Although this could make me socially inept in this day and age, but that's okay. I'm okay with socially inept. I'm already half-way there, so why not just go all the way!
K.J. has been funny lately. He is a unique person. And honestly, I think all my life I've had this image in the back of my mind of what my children would be like, and the first would be a Big Brother, and he would be kind, and good, and not obsessed with sports or beating anybody up or stealing any ones food, but would be a friend and a protector. And dang, but I hit the jackpot! Actually, I have never met anyone quite like K.J. He is just awesome-pants.
Now that I've given you the Yes-I-Gave-Birth-To-This-Child-And-Isn't-He-Amazing background to this story, let us keep in mind that K.J. is 7. And this is the conversation we had the other day:
K.J. - Mom, can you teach me how to drive?
Mom - Well, buddy, not until you're 16.
K.J. - Wwwhhhhhhyyyyyyyy?
Mom - Because you're not allowed to drive until you're 16.
K.J. - But I was going to borrow Daddy's drivers licence tomorrow!
The next day we were waiting in the car for the Double B and K.J. hopped over the seats to sit in the drivers seat.
K.J. - Mom, which one is the gas and which one is the brake?
Mom - Ha! Like I'm going to tell you that.
K.J. - Mom, do I really have to wait until I'm 16 to drive at all?
Mom - Well, I guess you'll get your learners permit when you're 15, so that is a little earlier.
K.J. - (after having a learners permit explained) Phew! That's better!
Tomorrow he gets to go on the LONG-awaited field trip to the local National Park. This is the moment he has lived his whole life for. He is filled with wild, breathless anticipation. I hope it is all he is waiting for and more. He reminded me three times before he left for school this morning that I need to buy him a water bottle today: "Not too big, but not too small. Not too fat, but not too skinny. Just a perfect water bottle, okay?"
One last thing about K.J.: he kind of has a hard time being reverent in Sacrament Meeting. It's just that a thought pops into his head and he just has to let it out! I understand this problem, but really. We have a little secret hand squeeze in our family that means "I love you." Then the other person does it back. It was suggested by the sealer that married us in the temple, and I've just used it on my kids as a natural thing, I guess. Well, the secret hand squeeze is K.J.'s bread and butter. He loves the secret hand squeeze. He is very much a verbal affirmation person, he loves to be told that he is loved and appreciated. So the squeeze works. So yesterday he was getting a little rambunctious during the meeting (The Double B already had Katelyn out in the hallway) and I was finally running out of patience and getting after him a little. Then his little hand finds mine. He gives me the secret squeeze. I give him the secret squeeze back. Then he whispers "I love you, Mom." And I say "I love you, too." Then, loud and proud, he stage-whispers "But I love you more then anyone else in the whole world." And how do you ssshhhh that? I ask you.
I try to have the good sense to sink those moments into my soul for when he no longer loves me more then anyone else in the whole world. To really let it become part of who I am so that when I'm an old Granny-friend I'll have that warmth to rock me in my chair. So that I'll know that for these years, he was mine.
'Cause he is mine. So I'd like to enjoy it, you know?
Poor Katelyn is teething again and thinks her life is completely unfair. She is in turmoil. She also needs a nap, so with their powers combined, they are... CAPTAIN PLANET! Olivia got a new Sunday dress that, I must admit, is very funky and adorable. She feels particularly beautiful in it. Yesterday two deacons came over to collect our fast offering and they both complimented her. She literally flipped her hair and waltzed down the hall to her room with her nose in the air. It was very funny, and they got a kick out of it, so when she came back in looking for more compliments, they were quick to give them (I was impressed by them, too, they were not just generic -- for instance "I love the blue in your dress, Olivia" then "Yeah, the blue really stands out with your eyes!") so that the process -- hair flip, nose in air, etc. -- could be repeated. Then I guess she gave Grandma the crinkly-nose of delight when Grandma complimented her, too.
Olivia has basically been a clothes-horse since she was born. And who doesn't love compliments, I ask you? What a gal.
The Double B is way over-stress/over-worked right now. I need to pick up the nurturing, and then he needs to pick up the Valium. Haha. Just kidding, but I appreciated my own joke. (Does this fall under the no-more-sarcasm category? I'm not sure.) He's pretty groovy, that one. He really is.
All in all, all is well. So that is good.
Call me back tomorrow, will you?